So right outside Loita House, you run into this fellow wearing red shoes. An old acquaintance. PR guy. After niceties he says, “What are you doing Friday late afternoon?” You are loose – it’s December and you have closed …
In 2003, I was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed intern at Ayton Young and Rubicam along Mombasa Road. (They have since been discarded into the wasteland of failed companies, swallowed by the black pit of ruthless competition). Back then interns …
The day sucked. You need a drink. You wedge your car between a lustrous BMW 3 series and a priestly Toyota TX with a “Baby on Board” sticker. Inside you climb onto the bar chair and tell the barman …
