This morning I awoke to the perma-grey of London with the quality of hangover that can only truly be achieved when your Cockney neighbor pops by, you offer her a glass of wine and three and a half bottles and a cheese board later you find yourself dancing around your living room to Missy Elliot and actually believing that you could have been her back-up dancer had you only pursued your dream.*
While nursing this monster at my desk this morning with a cup of Earl Grey and a prayer the hot Dane that I met at Scottish Equity Partners Burns Night Supper decides to phone me. He works for a huge European investment fund and has been touting my theory about European VCs using capital more efficiently than US ones around his office. Obviously, we had this discussion before the Scotch came out because I definitely remember him but the details of this chat are pretty furry.
He was getting in touch for more evidence which I happily supplied. But he seemed eager to get off the phone. Is that because I sound like Dolly Pardon after fire eating? Shit!
Oh, whats this? An e-mail with the subject hi again from the Dane he cut our call short because a GP hed been trying to reach for two days was on the other line. This e-mail is flirty indeed. And lets take a look at the scoreboard: America one, Denmark one.
* Two very good bottles of Cotes du Rhone that I have been saving forever, a fruiter Tempranillo and half a bottle of light Bordeaux that I had left over from the weekend for those of you that are interested.