If you go down in the woods today …

If you go down in the woods today
You’re sure of a big surprise
If you go down in the woods today
You’d better go in disguise!
For every bear that ever there was
Will gather there for certain
Because today’s the day the
Teddy Bears have their picnic.

This is the week that oil traders go down in the woods (Park Lane and Piccadilly) for an entirely liquid, appropriately high octane, picnic. OK, ages ago I used to pimp for clients at these alcoholic orgies. I’ve been out of work for three years but I wanted to see a friend and former client (Clara). I chose a quiet pub in Mount Street, The Audley, and because of her schedule it had to be at 5.00 on Monday evening. I vaguely recognised a bearded cove having a fag outside the pub and he identified himself as “Joe”. Surprisingly he recognised me. Inside, there were two oil industry parties going on simultaneously (Tullett Prebon and BP International, I think).

While I normally live like a monk practicing abstinence and devoutness in my cell in Barons Court somehow everything went terribly wrong; the people, the crowd, the noise … and the abundance of wine. I found myself explaining to a former boss of mine, a genial American, that I had always regarded him as a total tosser. He seemed to take this as a compliment which indeed it is. I always got on well with American bosses who were TTs and there were a string of them. They had negligible understanding of the business so didn’t interfere. When they did it was initiatives so ridiculous that they were best ignored. However, they performed one essential function. They were the conduit to bosses further up the chain and, I presume, passed the word up the line that the oil futures desk in London seemed to be working satisfactorily and should be left alone.

By this stage things were getting seriously out of hand. I was taken to the Dorchester for a party given by the Chicago Mercantile Exchange (CME). Not having an invitation I had Jason’s name on my lapel. Funnily enough the only time I have been to Royal Ascot was with the wrong badge through a muddle.

Then it was on to Quaglino’s for the Intercontinental Exchange (ICE) party. No invitation; no problem as they still just about recognised me  from my time in the industry and service on the board of the International Petroleum Exchange decades ago. I spoke rather disobligingly to an employee of the Dubai Mercantile Exchange so no non exec job for me there. Then I fell over, was shoved in a taxi and got home just about in one piece.

Today I’m meeting another former boss of mine (Erik, not a TT) for lunch and am looking forward to telling him about the oil traders’ picnic.