Conversation between a very dapper man in his 50s, decked out in waistcoat and tashe, and an old acquaintance, female. Venue undisclosed.
Acquaintance: How’s Greg?
Dapper Man: Good. Well, we’re married now. He’s a lot younger than me, did you know? He’s 30.
Acquaintance: Wise choice.
Dapper Man: He’s good fun but he’s depressive. He’s got a very boring job that he hates; he’s got lovely family but they’re overprotective. We weren’t rich enough to have depression, we could only afford to be fed up. His family mollycoddled him through it.
Acquaintance: What does he do?
Dapper Man: I don’t exactly know what he does. He works in insurance. He’s very badly paid.
Acquaintance: Does he go out a lot too?
Dapper Man: He doesn’t do galleries. If we’re on holidays he’ll certainly enjoy going to see something. But it’s not something that sits well; his family have never done it. If you grow up with a family that does history and art then you see it as being pretty normal.
Acquaintance: Does he like the theatre?
Dapper Man: He does, but not all of it.
Acquaintance: Classical music?
Dapper Man: Not at all . But it’s great because I told someone, I get to go with a boyfriend for culture, a boyfriend for [beep], I just need a third one for domestic chores now.