Dear Uncle DHL. There is a pleasant young lady in accounts, whom I wish to invite to the firm’s Christmas “do”. What should I say to her?
Answer: Say little. There is a look, unflinching, unsparing, direct, that will establish from the first the basis of your relationship – that you will be master, as a man must. It tells her firmly that she can be nothing to you if her feelings are in the mind alone – mere sex-in-the-head; she will know instinctively that you mean to arouse deep longings in her solar plexus, and to explore the core of her physical jungle, the last and deepest recess of organic shame. If she consents, there may perhaps be hope for at least some of the wretched and rotten human race.
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