I remembered the other day what happened at a party I went to some years ago. It was an arty kind of party. After a drink or two I can, though I say so myself, be rather ludic at such gatherings. I am not adverse to extrapolating or massaging the truth to avoid the grey monotonies of conversing with people you don’t know. I was involved in one such conversation with someone who was being somewhat ludic too. She had startted with some playful offering and, in great style I had picked up the conceit and ran with it, elaborating and embroidering spontaneously. She was, may I say, unable to keep pace with my repartee but did her best. After ten or fifteen minutes the amusing bantering dialogue reached its natural end. Time to mingle elsewhere. At this point this woman produced a card:

You have just been entertained by… The Party Conversation Group. Available for hire.

The poor girl probably didn’t sleep that night. Bettered by an unwitting amateur. I just give this stuff out for free. I never realised there was a market for it.

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