A firm of solicitors a few doors along from my chambers had a social evening last week. They have some connections in the motor racing world, so gave the evening a 'Formula One' theme. Partially this consisted of some interesting photographs around the Walls and partially was created by the 8-lane 'Scalextric' model motor racing circuit set up in the middle of the room. I had spent an hour or two with my 'Scalextrics' in my youth, so I had a go and laid down quite a fast lap.
A couple of hours, several glasses of wine and some nice chat later I found myself being called forward as one of the 8 fastest lap times to take part in the final! This would consist of eight races with each of us driving each car/lane to even out differences of car, corner sharpness etc. So there I found myself, in compsny with 7very determined-looking 'suits'. Round we went, with the testosterone-fuelled suits crashing and spinning off at the corners! Meanwhile, 'steady Edwina' drove round at a fast but sustainable pace. Crucially, I finished, and scored points in every race.
And so, much to the good-natured chagrin of the 'suits' I found myself collecting the hamper of 'Carluccio's' Italian food, and very nice it has proved!
I am bait concerned that I have blown my cover, though. Or perhaps, because I proved myself to be a good and careful driver, have I perhaps enhanced my female status?
Robin Moira White
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