Summary
Thursday night, downtown Manhattan, three weeks ago, a dinner party given by an old acquaintance. There are a couple of musicians, some journalists, a hotelier, the daughter of a famous painter... and two of the smuggest people it has ever been my misfortune to meet.
Mr and Mrs Smug were both Australian - probably still are - although I didn't initially hold that against them. He does something with (or in) aerospace, and she has a trinket shop somewhere in the Village (not that she'd ever refer to it like that, obviously - if I remember rightly I think she called it a 'bespoke boutique'). They have two children, who, if their parents are anything to go by, are more than likely unbearably smug, too.See the full content of this document
Extract
'Anyway, Enough About Me. Or Not'
I first realised that this couple weren't as other people when, having been asked some innocuous question such as where they lived or where they'd just been on holiday, Mr and Mrs Smug started to...
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