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Wimbledon's fashionable San Lorenzo Fuoriporta charged Emily Green an exceedingly large amount for a good, but very small, meal
Some money just demands to be spent. It pouts, it stamps its foot, and it will not be deposited. It wants to have fun.
It wants to buy an Audi soft-top, a Tudor table for the conservatory, a holiday in Martha's Vineyard, Centre Court seats at Wimbledon. Then it wants to go to San Lorenzo. You know the place, where the Princess of Wales, Tatum O'Neal and Eric Clapton spend, spend, spend after all that expensive, big-loot tennis.
You book the place. Or you think you do. As you approach it, your money coyly enquires what what dear surprise awaits in quaintest Putney, fine- for-some Southfields and good old Wimbledon. You decide it's playing dumb. But as you park and pat your pocket, you are racked with insecurity. The telephone operator had asked "Which San Lorenzo?" It being a tennis hang- out, you had assumed Wimbledon.
Your heart sinks as you realise this may be the wrong place - you probably should have chosen the one in Beauchamp Place, where the paparazzi row in jammiest, creamiest Kensington.
Suddenly you realise this restaurant is called San Lorenzo Fuoriporta, meaning outside the town gates, in this case, in the burbs! Your money wails, "How could you? Tennis stars don't eat near the tennis! Even a ball boy knows that!"
However, suddenly you are cross...