I attended a business networking lunch today. It was great to be able to meet, in person, those people I’ve been dealing with via e-mail and over the phone for some time now.
My reputation is preceding me though.
Not the women I met at lunch and their preconceived ideas about me. No, it was the young (and rather attractive waiter). It was a pay-your-own-way lunch, which is fine. But I was first to order.
So I ordered a glass of the sav blanc.
No problems there, till the waiter turns and says “Would you like a bottle?”
Do I look like an alcoholic? OK, I am a Mum, among other things, but I don’t think I looked so bad that it prompted that sort of question.
I don’t think I was shaking or twitching or anything? I’m pretty sure I was dressed appropriately. Well, dressed, anyway. And I had nearly run a brush through my hair.
So I said, “Sure. Why not? Don’t worry about the glass, just stick a straw in the bottle for me!”