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"I don't go to those ones. I never attend any event unless it requires air travel and a passport. I also don't go anywhere cold. If I think I'm going to have to pack an insulated jacket or similar unbecoming attire, I decline the invitation. After the event I look at the press material I have been given and pick 300 words to fill in the gap between the parts I write myself."

"Which 300?" I asked. "Some of these PR people are shockingly verbose when it comes to writing press packs."

"The first 300," she replied. "My readers just want to know that I'm going to glamorous places and driving stylish cars. They don't actually want to learn anything about them. Oh, and when I say 300 words, I'm talking in round figures. As you know, I am a dedicated professional and take pains to ensure that I do not stop in mid-sentence."

Failing To Get The Point

"But Amanda," I said, coming to what I considered the nub of the issue, "surely you don't actually have to go to these events at all? You could simply get manufacturers to send you the press material and do your job without leaving your desk."

She stared at me. "Rufus," she said, a note of reproach coming into her musical voice, "don't be a twit. Why would I pass up the chance to fly to warm countries and drive lovely cars? I don't have to pay for any of it - I am in fact paid handsomely to do it - and it makes a nice change from spending time with rich and famous people, who are without exception boring, empty-headed egomaniacs."

"I dare say they are. It seems to me, Amanda, that in your short but eventful career you have achieved the very state which has been my goal since the pre-decimalisation era. You go to all the best press events, enjoy all the perks, do practically no real work and are paid an enormous salary."

"Yes," she said, "that's pretty much how it works."

I sighed softly. "I've been trying to get away with that for years and never even come close. No doubt about it, old girl, your life is better than mine."

She took a sip from her Malibu and whatever-it-was.

"Damn right it's better than yours," she said.

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