Raptus Regaliter

Her Maj works for a Bank.  It's called Sal Oppenheim, and it was the oldest private bank in Germany.  It was, until recently, run by the likes of the Graf Von Krokko (probably misspelt, but can't be arsed), whose banking qualifications, as far as I can tell, were marrying into the family.  Being a Graf, he's what the germans like to call an "Adler"(eagle) or what the British like to call "an inbred upper-class twit".

Anyway, the Graf has recently had to make a "hard" decision.  He sold the entire bank to Deutsche Bank, due to the ridiculous amount of debt that Sal Oppenheim was in.  No, that wasn't his hard decision.  His hard decision was to stand up at a meeting and tell all the employees that he'd made the decision between saving his scrawny little neck and saving their jobs, and guess which way the cookie had crumbled?

So, Her Maj has been busy, because she was sent to a conference in London about the crisis.

As far as I can see, the majority of this "Conference" was a bunch of bankers sitting in a very expensive London Hotel, wringing their hands and saying "what is to be done? What is to be done?" until someone came up with the idea of having an expensive lunch at the Hotel Restaurant to try and kick-start the world economy.

She came home, tired and irritable, from a hard day's kick-starting.  There's only so much smoked salmon you can stomach, you know.