My tennis team was due to play at a new venue for us, the Municipal Services Staff Recreation Club in Kowloon. The skipper sent players an email accordingly and followed this up on the morning of the match with a Google map on which a red pin location marker pinpointed the destination.
A head count at the assembly time alerted the captain to the fact that we were one man short. It was our corporate lawyer.
“Did you phone him?” I said.
“No, he got the email like everyone else,” replied Neil.
“But he’s a lawyer,” I replied. “Wouldn’t have read it.”
Eventually, after a tour of the courts in the area which took in Queen Elizabeth Hospital and Club Recreio, our Antipodean lawyer showed up.
“I got here 20 minutes early but the courts at the South China Athletic Association were all closed – there were no floodlights, nothing.”
The SCAA is next door to the MSSRC, in case you were wondering – close but no cigar, as Jimmy Savile might have put it about the one that got away.
“They didn’t speak much English but told me to try the hospital,” he attempted with the best bluster he could muster.
“Should have visited the ophthalmic department and got fitted up for a pair of reading glasses,” my partner for the night muttered under his breath.
“Wouldn’t have done much good, you know,” I returned.
“Well, he’s a partner in a Hong Kong law firm. If we want to make sure that he reads his emails, we need to send them to his secretary.”