August 15th 2013 |
And by “Gentlemen’s Club” we do not mean the kind of establishment filled to the gunwhales with scantily-clad young ladies, gyrating their lithe young bodies in the face of drooling businessmen and drunken stag parties. For if you are the kind of person that frequents these clubs, then you cannot call yourself a gentleman.
The kind of gentleman’s club to which we refer are the type that up-and-coming young men mix with over-the-hill old duffers in lounges, billards rooms and excellently-appointed dining suites. And to be honest, if you’re not a member of one of these clubs now, it’s highly unlikely that you ever will.
However, all is not lost! Even your humble author has ventured through the doors of a major Club in London’s Pall Mall, looking like a red-face stuff-ed turkey in a borrow dinner jacket, so there is hope for all of us. I am pleased to report that the building was luxurious, the company was high class (even if there were clearly not enough chins to go around), the dining was superb, and I got roaringly drunk and had to get the jacket dry-cleaned before handing it back.
But to gain membership, that’s a complety different kettle of fish. We reckon there’s three ways through the door:
1. Be a titled nob. There’s no better way to get into a club than by holding the title of the 3rd Baronet Charles De Farquarr-Tibbles-Cholmondeley. If you are distantly related to a hereditary peer of the realm, best start your murder campaign now
2. Promotion. By which we mean be a member of some lesser organisation that brings you into contact with club members. Go to a top university. Join the right golf club, or try a funny handshake on everybody you meet. Sooner or later you’re going to hit pay dirt.
3. The back door. Get a job for a company that delivers quail’s eggs and champagne. Sooner or later, you’ll be dropping off huge crates in the kitchen at Drones. Slip out of your overalls and into your best weddings/funerals/court appearances suit, and head upstairs and bluff it for all you are worth. Then, two minutes later, pick yourself up off the pavement outside, dust yourself down, and head back to your van. Perhaps this kind of gentleman’s club is not for you. Try the other sort.
Of course, you don’t have to be a member of a gent’s club to be a gentleman. Starting with as little as a pair of fine black socks, you can achieve much the same effect by going out for a Berni, midweek, and have a starter AND a dessert. Now, that’s posh.