When I’ve travelled abroad, I’ve gone to see things that I would find most objectionable. Bull fighting in Mexico City, for example. In a couple of weeks I shall do something similar here, and go to see innocent people tortured for several hours. I am going to go to the Globe Theatre in London and watch a Shakespeare play. The Taming of the Shrew, to be precise. I’ve mentioned my dislike for Wills before on these pages. I’m in the minority, I know. I won’t rehash my reasoning today though.
I suspect I’ll enjoy the play though, and the occasion too. I’ve decided to ‘play along’ with it all and get myself into character. You see, here in Blighty we have so many more choices when we book tickets to go out. We don’t just get to choose the seating. There are other options available. And let me tell you, I don’t see why I have to be boring old ‘Mr’ every single time I book something when there are so many more glamorous salutations to choose from. Mr Denness will not be visiting the Globe. Allow me to introduce you to Viscount Denness. I could have gone for a more senior noble title I suppose. But I just like the sound of Viscount. It looked good on the tickets when they came to. I could get used to being a Viscount, very easily.
Now, one truly hopes that the Globe appreciate such prestigious patronage and will afford me the rightful amount of respect and reverence upon my arrival. I’ve seen how the stars are greeted at the Oscars and I expect nothing less. The Globe might have been built upon the principles of 16th century England, but there’s no excuse for their tech not to be 100% up to date. Communication is everything, and if they don’t have a business engineered telcom system that’s up to snuff I suggest they seek out a fixed-mobile convergence here. People are going to be making calls in to get things right for me, and those calls need to be answered at the right time by the right people. The latest tech makes all this perfectly possible. But I don’t want my ticket prices to go up, thank you very much, so the value they offer with hosted calls will suit us all.
They will need it. I want carpet, hosts to remove our jackets and see us to our place, I want drinks pronto and of course I want to hear slavish ‘yes, your lordship’ as an answer to my every whim. You know the routine. I’ll say jump, they’ll ask how high. Etc. Of course, there is an alternative ending to this story. There’s probably a law against pretending to be a noble. Maybe I’ll be greeted at the gates by police and carted off to the local nick! Although that really would require a complete and utter lack of humour whatsoever!