London Diary: Doing Business & The English Gent


Most people see London from the top of a big red bus, at least that’s how I had experienced it until now. Today was my first day “doing business” in London and I managed to negotiate far more than a great deal, I discovered a whole new wave of opportunity for the single girl.

As the sun came up over the chimney tops, I collected my things and slipped downstairs to the brasserie for my morning coffee. My winged eyes skimmed over the pages of my day one agenda, working out the logistics of getting from Covent Garden to the buzzing business district of Canary Wharf in my six inch heels.

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I was about to meet London’s elite cooperate players and while the details of how we conducted business aren’t mine to share, I can dish my findings on English men.

At exactly 8 am I put on my coat and with one deep breath stepped out to face the cold Spring day.

There is something truly empowering about walking down the high street with the purpose of actually having to get to somewhere that isn’t a food and beverage cart or your next tourist attraction.

At the end of the cobbled street our agent hailed us a black cab.

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 And off we headed to our first meeting.
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10 minutes later the car pulled up outside the global headquarters of one of the world’s largest property businesses.

We made our way through one of two revolving glass doors and into the biggest foyer I’d ever seen. On one end was a row of attractive blondes and on the other a restaurant. We waited in the middle of the room for our meeting and I watched a group of suits file out of the elevator.

A man in an expensive navy suit appeared from behind the group and walked over to greet us. He was tall, young, maybe 28 and for some reason at that moment I thought of all the 28 year olds that I had dated who couldn’t fold a pillow case alone iron their shirt.

The dapper gent insisting on helping me carry my press packs before escorting us to the very top floor. In the elevator I studied his face inconspicuously like the professional stalker I am. Once we reached level 30 he even held the elevator door open for me, yet I identified no noticeable sign of him wanting to get into my pants.

“Very gentlemanly with no signs of an ulterior motive” I noted these findings in my head.

Past another foyer was a door that opened up into a massive board room with floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto the rooftops of London.

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The room even had an entire area dedicated to tea, coffee and wait for it…pastries. It was at that moment that I understood the allure of being a global CEO. Not only do you get to sit at the head of a table the size of my Sydney apartment but you get to drink unlimited cups of tea for free.
And then I made dapper gentleman guy take a ridiculous power stance photo of me…
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The rest of the day was a parade of millionaire business men and “banker wankers”, some more amused than impressed by our offering. The most impressive property directors were actually women, a notion that didn’t surprise me in the slightest.

 By 5pm I was exhausted and stood swaying under a lamp post on Regent Street.

“Come on, let’s get something to eat”. Our agent (who is also a classic example of a English gentleman) said.

I held the neck of my coat as we dashed across the street.

He held open the door to the swanky pub as we sauntered inside. I could definitely get used to this door opening thing.

We perched on a table closest to the bar.

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 A martini for the lady and a pint of beer for the gent.
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“Oh and I’ll also get the thick cut truffle oil chips, fried calamari and qual egg arancini….Your shout? Perfect.”

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While fingering an arancini ball, I gazed around the room and noticed something that would be considered extremely rare in Sydney: a room full of decent looking men and barely any women. They all looked quite smart and professional, I bet they also opened the door for women and took their first dates on a romantic Eurostar rides to Paris.

Okay so I know what you’re thinking. What is a girl who has just been flown half way around the world to do business in London doing even thinking about men?

Yes this trip will give me the opportunity to gain invaluable business experience, however I still feel a great sense of responsibility to my single girls back in Sydney. The girls who have almost given up on finding the right guy because of the dismal dating conditions in my city. I didn’t go out expecting to find ‘The Gentleman’ in London but their chivalrous ways were just too good to ignore.

Now, I’m not saying that the English gent has never sent a dick pic in his life (Unfortunately that is a disease that plagues the world over) but I am impressed that he doesn’t lead with it (his dick). Call me old fashioned but nothing gets me going like a well dressed man that isn’t afraid to open a door for a woman regardless of whether she is the object of his desire or not.

And I’m sure these subtle moves also weld a remarkable return on investment. A cup of tea, a pastry and a blow job perhaps…

Boys I guess you’ll have to find that one out for yourself.

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My martini’s finished now and it’s time to get back to business!
P x
Miss P
About me

Heaven on Bourke is a lifestyle blog created by Miss P, a twenty-something author of a Pleasure Guide pamphlet most commonly found in luxe vibrator boxes. True story! She loves to travel between her beachy hometown of Noosa and London's upmarket Notting Hill, where she writes a smut column for a lingerie empire. Off duty, Miss P brunches in the city and dates many interesting characters. All findings on real life, sex and love are recorded in this honest lifestyle blog for your viewing pleasure. Enjoy gorgeous!

1 Comments

Alli
Reply March 28, 2016

As always, a fabulous read and cheeky tell all, with the ever-perfect balance of savvy & sassy! I think you 'suit' London beautifully darling xxx

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