Brian introduces me to his companions. There is Carmen: a giantess who looks like Grace Jones in negative; she tells me that she's an 'artist'. And Lisa: an assistant at Brian's new record company; blonde, well-proportioned, very cute. Both smile sweetly at me, probably labouring under the misapprehension that I have influence to wield. Leaving them in the dark might give the evening some swing, but before I can make any fraudulent claims pertaining to my status and/or occupation Brian flattens my ego.
'This is Daniel,' he says. 'My lawyer.'
MY LAWYER.
Passion-killer.
My plans for an evening of amorous deceit fart away like a punctured balloon. Because, let's be honest, being a lawyer ain't got that much in the way of sexual magnetism.