So, Christmas is fast approaching and I have a boyfriend. I’ve been told on good authority (I called an office meeting on the subject, my publisher was distinctly unimpressed, apparently I’m Wasting Company Time) that the present buying for a partner is considered “A Big Thing”. Well. I thought it was like having a sibling or friend that you could joke about it with, deciding on a lame £5 budget or some such – so it was just a jokey sort of imitation celebration. Oh, how wrong I was.
Helen, the business marketing manager – living with boyfriend, claims that it’s all a Power Game whereby you don’t spend much (displaying your femininity and worthlessness without male support or something) but your partner completely spoils you, after which I assume you repay in sexual favours by going to work beneath the dining table before he consumes too much port. I think it’s called ‘Tinsel Prostitution’.
Ana, another woman who works in marketing – married, agrees on a budget with her husband but it’s a complete smoke screen because she’s the only one the “budget” is set for, he always gets her something else on top that’s usually of the expensive and shiny variety.
Julia, the Swedish intern - with loads of boyfriends spread across the continent, has a strict Christmas Cards Only policy (and no wonder) but would never put too much effort into buying something for a man. Fair enough, Camden Town only sells so many nose rings per annum.
Frederic, the sexy advertising executive – living with equally sexy girlfriend, spoils her something rotten and apparently “couldn’t care less what she got me, It’s the thought that counts.” Yeah, right – hardly what you told Santa though, is it?
The others were too unhelpful and pointless to even mention. I’ve now added a truckload of stress to the festive season that I usually solely use to consume Mulled Wine and read Jilly Cooper. Ho Fucking Ho.
On a plus note: my period has gone, so I’m finally getting laid again.
