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Saturday 22 November 2008

Name dropping

How we determine the membership of the world's most exclusive club 

The most common rule of thumb for the ideal club is the one where all one’s friends are members. This can present a problem for those with no friends at all, only acquaintances. I know a few people like that, but what is amazing is that they do belong to clubs. One such fellow, whom I will not name, nor his three clubs, is among the greatest shits ever to wear a necktie. I have met many people in my life, among whom many know him, and all I’ve heard is what a terrific turd the man is. A cheapskate, a bore, mean-spirited, cowardly, a total phoney and ugly as hell to boot, he does not possess even a scintilla of charm, the easiest of human traits to acquire through fakery. Great shits more often than not possess lotsa charm. All conmen do, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to con anyone, not even an American innocent abroad.

Two of the most charming men I knew when young were Gianni Agnelli and Porfirio Rubirosa. Gianni was a clubman, Rubi was not. Go figure, as they say. It is often said that one should join clubs early in life, before one begins seducing married ladies, getting drunk in public and telling off bores. It is good advice, but one we have tried desperately to ignore in choosing our membership. In this age of gushing exhibitionism, hype and confession, Pug’s remains small, exclusive, heterosexual, white and totally discreet. Except for the habit of putting up on the noticeboard all those unfortunate souls who have been blackballed.

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