Tulkinghorn: Scran scam
20 September 2010
Tulkinghorn received a stark warning as to the dangers of eating at posh restaurants last week from a particularly irate City partner.
This chap, who shall remain nameless, had booked lunch for himself and a guest at Hibiscus, the Michelin-starred restaurant in Mayfair.
On the day of the meal the partner’s guest cancelled, an occupational hazard in the frantic world of high finance - but one that cost the lawyer a cancellation fee of £50 per person.
“I’m fuming, I was only going to have the £30 set menu,” seethed the partner.
Having cost him more than that not to eat there the lawyer has apparently told the top-class café that he’s going to sue them for the return of the charge. That’ll learn ’em.
Tulkinghorn can hardly wait for the second course.
Moor bed curiosity
In August Tulkinghorn left London for a short sojourn on the North Yorkshire moors. One always looks forward to rambling across the muddy terrain for days on end without a lawyer in sight, but alas, this time it was not to be.
The blasted Bentley took a wrong turn and, lacking one of those satnav thingies, Tulkinghorn had to rely on the old map. As the sun began to set on this ill-fated journey, Tulkinghorn would have given anything to see a friendly lawyer’s face. And then, like a mirage in the desert, one appeared upon the horizon: The Honest Lawyer.
Yes, honest. This Durham-based hostelry was certainly a saving grace on a chilly summer night. One can only surmise that trustworthy lawyers are such a rare commodity up North that Best Western chose to name one of its establishments after it. For sure, it was the first time that Tulkinghorn has spent the night inside an Honest Lawyer.
Hickory dickory Vox
Addleshaw Goddard’s X Factor-style video booth - dubbed the VoxBox - has spent three years on the graduate recruitment circuit. Within students desperate to enter the rat race had less than two minutes to explain why they should win a place at one of the firm’s open days. It was a beautiful idea.
Now Tulkinghorn has learnt that the VoxBox has taken early retirement and been relegated to the depths of Addleshaws’ storage basement.
But what’s this? Apparently a legion of rodents have decided to set up home in the recruitment tool.
Word is the graduate recruitment team is looking to rehouse the rodents. Slaughters may be the team’s preferred destination.
You may recall in last week’s issue (13 September) Tulkinghorn recounting the tale of Ashurst Dubai managing partner Joss Dare’s date with a goldfish. This week: the curious origins of his middle name, Stanton.
Many generations ago Dare’s forebears befriended a wealthy spinster whose family name was Stanton. Knowing the spinster had no family to bequeath her riches to, the canny Dares started giving their children the name Stanton in the hope that it would spark some kind of affinity between them and the old crone. Stanton, the family hoped, would write her namesakes into her will.
Alas it was not to be. The Dares, for all their efforts, received not a penny, a farthing, a bean. Still, at least the name Stanton has been passed on.
Where there’s a will there’s a way.
Wim some, lose some
The press party at Allen & Overy earlier this month (8 September) generated the usual amount of embarrassing moments for any hack-filled bash, but Tulkinghorn’s favourite came courtesy of a more-than-tipsy non-legal scribe: “So wot choo do then?” slurred the sozzled soak. “Head up the newshhcore?”
“No,” replied Wim Dejonghe. “Campbell McIlroy’s your man for that. I’m busy enough running this firm.”