Worlds apart

My boss has no understanding of what it's like not to be affluent, live in Dulwich, have an au pair and spend obscene amounts of money on Prada, organic vegetables and chablis. For a 26 year old PA like myself, life is remarkably different.

Her weekly Starbucks bill alone would very nicely cover my weekend's spend on cheap chardonnay, following morning fry-up and Primark purchases. In fact, she probably has no idea where Tooting actually is.

Despite the fact that we work in the same office, and I take her calls, organise her meetings, pick up her dry cleaning and remember her children's birthdays, once we go our seperate ways on Friday evenings, our weekends are literally worlds apart.

Recently I spent a Friday evening babysitting my boss's two children (a task she actually considered a favour on her part I think, as I would be ingratiated into Dulwich society for the evening, albeit only that of her children) and was astounded at the excess displayed in the simple journey from the office to her house.

We took a black cab home ('these shoes were not meant for walking, sweetie') and stopped at Waitrose for some supplies for the evening ahead. Two bottles of chablis, three bags of crisps, assorted dips, two gourmet pizzas, a mountain of chocolate and a footspa (?!) later, we were back on our way to the house, with a Starbucks latte in hand, prepared for the evening. Well, actually that was just for me, we hadn't even started on the children's requirements yet.

After a couple of glasses of wine later that evening, with remote to Sky TV in one hand, piece of organic chocolate in the other, and feet blissfully in the footspa, I figured I could get used to this...I even considered soaking the label off the remaining bottle of chablis and sticking it to a cheap bottle of plonk from the corner shop...it's not like she'd notice the difference.

But on reflection, her generosity made up for her ignorance beyond the confinements of Dulwich village...this time.