I seem to have a magical ability to insult certain people inadvertently and repeatedly, and last night my victim was the Master of Pembroke College. Now, the Master is the head honcho, the big cheese, the daddy of Pembroke College, Cambridge, where I studied my first degree. In my first year there, whilst hideously drunk at the Dean's Christmas party, I slurred something like 'I'm f***ed and the Master's f***ed too', whilst the man himself was standing right behind me. Oop!
I went for my first dinner at high table last night in college with the husband. Since I left, the old Master (whom I would recognise) has been replaced by a shiny new one, ex-MI6 Sir Richard Dearlove. During pre-dinner drinks I was talking to someone else, but was interrupted to shake hands with a grey haired, bespectacled, slightly solemn-looking chap. I said, 'Sorry, I didn't catch your name...'. He looked a tiny bit startled, even through his steady compusure, and replied, 'I'm Richard. Richard Dearlove. The Master.' I think I squealed with embarrassed laughter at that point. He turned away pretty quickly (after politely assuring me that it was OK!). Oh dear. We didn't speak again.
Otherwise it was a good do. Saw some people I haven't seen in years and got jolly drunk. Not really. I keep tabs on my drinking when the Master is involved these days. Not that it helps much.
Image from the Daily Mail.
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so you did not ask if he was the nemisis of dr who....so all good i say!
ReplyDeleteI love how some things never change.
ReplyDeleteThat is a classic.
You should have joked about how he was the master of disguise.