Sunday, 11 April 2010

Making new friends

Imants had told me that there was indeed somebody that might be able to get me in for dinner at the House of Lords - his name was Jean-Francois Dor. A French events organiser for the royal family, and for judges, ministers and other members of high society; plus the vice-chairman of The Eccentric Club. Whoops. I probably should have known that. Looking him up on the Internet managed to trigger some vague memories for me, at least:



I'd sat in that very chair in The Arts Club, Mayfair, just a few nights earlier.

From what else I could recall, he'd definitely given a passionate speech about something at the Convivial Evening too, and we'd definitely talked positively about the idea of me accompanying him to one of his events. It was a minor break-through but I still rued my social deficiencies for forgetting in the first place. I decided the best policy was to send him an email to say hello once again, and to ask him when I might be able to head on down to the House. Perhaps get a feeler for how well we may or may not have got on with one another over the course of that evening.

I started to imagine what dinner at the Lords might actually be like. I visioned all the peers, sat on the wooden benches in the main room, taking a break from jeering at each other in their robes to crouch over hot dinners perched on their laps with plastic cutlery in their hands, and squabbling with one another over who got the last bread roll from the dinner lady. Then I reminded myself that in no way was the House of Lords likely to be anything like school. No, that was the House of Commons - these guys were a little maturer than that.

The thought of sitting around tables eating beef wellington, sipping red wine and talking politics with some of the most important people in the country got me pretty excited, though. It wasn't something I'd ever considered possible before I'd got my title. I realised if it were to happen, I'd probably want to brush up on a few things - politics being the first. Aside from having an active interest in repeating famous "Bushisms" in pubs, politics wasn't really my strong point. Maybe I'd need to work on my dinner etiquette too. I decided to have another look at the Debrett's website (see blog 10th Nov 2009). They'd be able to teach me a few things:


Click on the link

In his earlier email, aside from telling me about Jean-Francois, Imants had also included the name of a website I might be interested in. It was called 'The Royal Princes and Princesses Club'. He gave me the web address so I decided to check it out - it was an exclusive social networking site for members of high society. A facebook for the rich and the privileged. Presumably somewhere to hang out with people of a certain status. I couldn't believe my luck; it was almost like getting 'made' in the mafia.

I typed in my details and signed up, before having a look around the site. It was full of people with royal names, and titles. Names like Princess Karen Sue Cantrell and the Duke of Faiyum. I didn't know who either of them were, but they sounded pretty important. I went back to my own details to check that I'd included 'Lord' in my own name. I didn't want to look out of place.

I wasn't quite sure what I was meant to do on the site, so I just monitored it for a while, to see what people got up to. It was very much like facebook, from what I could see; just with a far more 'regal' feel to it. Much to my delight, it wasn't long before I had my first friend request. And then another one, and another one after that. Then I received a message from one of my new friends, and lets just say, it happened to be more than a little interesting...

Lord Christopher Ward

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About Me

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For those of you who are new to knowing me, I am Lord Christopher Ward. Second in line to the internet throne, third in line at the post office on a Wednesday morning. Currently a student studying Professional Writing in Falmouth, Cornwall, I envisage a world where I can surf, write, and use my title to get me free stuff. Just don't ask me how I got here; my memory is warped from time to time.