Spring has sprung and the changing of the clocks has also signalled a burst of green grass amongst the 4×4 tracks across the verges and birds are singing and coughing.
The weekend being almost my Birthday meant an impromptu barbeque about 50Kms outside Kiev by the banks of a lake where wild boar skittered nervously as well they might. After Sashlik over an open fire one of my companions (a designated driver I hasten to add) produced an ex-soviet officers handgun and we proceeded to render tin cans to sieves.
The weekend was also notable for my purchase of a hoover – to be precise a Samsung complete with “pet hair turbo attachment” (so I must now buy a hairy cat). So what! – I hear you say. Well, such tedious tasks usually pass without comment but during and after purchase what can only be described as the “Lynx effect” kicked in. Used to tourists and locals, when a western man buys a hoover this signals to the girls in the shop that not only is he western (and therefore rich) but he is also living here.
And…if he is buying a hoover on his own (something not permitted anywhere in the world as men just buy the one that looks like a Ferrari – mine is red with spoilers and fins) he must be living on his own. It is a strange logic but who am I to argue?
Forget Armani, Gucci and Rolex – what every man about town needs is a Dyson.
Especially if another birthday is approaching…
