What happens if a Saturday afternoon begins like Thomas Hardy and ends like the evening of Silly Talks, with Erich Segal in between? A chance meeting on the street leads to a quick drink and then another with spouses, partners and fast friends, fervent discussions about topics of the day and life in the sharing economy, the wisdom of domestics with magic sponges and monogrammed brooms, working the circadian rhythms. Debates are fueled by charcuterie boards and addictive heirlooms, with Saturday supplements, satirical magazines, and cameo walk-bys as props.
Meanwhile on a separate track, where there’s smoke, there’s fire, but if a country’s leadership—make that two countries—is going to play with said fire, wouldn’t it make sense to take out some insurance beforehand? Who says madness takes its toll, and say what you want about Nero and his fiddle, but at least he could play.
Too much to take in by the end of the evening? Not to worry, if you need a taxi, call the Maxi.