You must be Henry!

Henry VIIII’ve never actually tried this to someone’s face, but I’ve often thought it must be possible to guess a person’s name by simple observing them for a few minutes. I experienced just such a moment on holiday.

We were staying in a relatively posh country hotel that was obviously not going to be occupied by the likes of your Shazzers and Dazzes, and a chap wandered into breakfast, who had the classic posho thing going on.

He was wearing a beige-coloured checked shirt, tucked into a pair of brown cords and wore a pair of brown brogues. He even talked with what sounded like an entire plum pudding in his mouth.

I instantly thought to myself, god you are the archetypal Henry. Not Hugo, or James, but Henry. And, blow me down if 5 minutes later his wife didn’t call him exactly that.

I actually wanted to stand up in the breakfast room (actually called The Orangery, to give you the idea of the hotel we were staying in) and punch the air, shouting ‘Yesss!’, but I held myself in.

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