Doing the Ex-pat

I feel a need for re-hab, I am Bass Pryce, I am an ex-pat.

I can feel the sympathy from the VIP lounge in the airport. I am in the gratis zone. I escape the masses in the burger shops and fake Irish pubs-u-like We are here reading an internatioanl newspaper with a noose around my neck called a tie and a red wine to dullen the brain cells. Others play at working 50+ hours a week on laptops palmtops, thumbtops. They call it evolution....survival of the smallest gadget that can still do a Power point presentation with animation without a hard-drive accessory. Mobile phones are being ditched for blackberrys as we keep up with the Jobs/ Gates equivalent of this world. And whilst I am awaiting the strawberrys to arrive I think I will have a free apple ~ a real free apple.

The working class execs are going awol, on the free gorging of whisky, gin, red wine and peanuts.

Whilst the steadier, more chubby middle-class execs look down, look away, look old; as they throw eyes in the air and noses to waft over their one evening glass of wine. A wine glass rolled to find its translucent wine texture on the glass ~ new money connoisseurs. These execs have been there and now they pretend not, for it is their turn to look snide for want of being superior.

And the upper class execs get annoyed by it all, but especially the fact they cannot leave a tokenly significant tip to the waitress. Its free.

I drink my wine without smelling. I am awaiting to travel to internatioanal business seminars to prove I am green, we are environmentally friendly and they are greener than a fool in April. My carbon footprint will go into overdrive tonight.

I am leaving behind the 9-5 for the 24/7 with air miles. I am not a tourist I am an ex-pat, ex-patting. I am an addict needing my free peanuts.

Holiday

Vacation is upon us, this means lifestylie re-adjustment, re-focusing relaxing with a good book, a lazy days spying the on the cloudes, re-connecting with the kiddie....teenagers , it means the Blackberry will be switched off without an order from an air stewardess, emphasising that when she says "sir" its only for politeness and when she repeats "siR", its for want of giving me a well-deserved back hander.

No ...no, I am an executive. I will be lost without being umbilically linked to something technologically advanced and virtual. I fear for this butterfly wing causing storms in Europe. This may be the trigger that causes economic meltdown in Greece, contagion in Portugal and damn nasty case of counting Euro pennies in Italy.

Pass me the battery charger, there is a crisis to avoid, the family fun filled theme park will have to damn wait.