Everyone local is going to be invited for tea or a dram.
Tarquin worked as a stockbroker till he decided to give up the ratrace, sold everything and bought a croft in the Scottish hills. For 6 months he tended his veggies, dug the land and raised chickens and sheep, but none of the locals spoke to him.
One day there was a knock at his door, and he opened it to a red faced teuchter in tweeds and bunnet.
"Hullo there, I'm Lachie from up the glen, thocht I should introduce masel and invite ye to a wee shindig a'm haein on Saturday nicht"
Tarquin was thrilled and accepted with alacrity.
"Why thank you so much Lachie, very glad to meet you and I'd be delighted to attend"
Lachie looked at him appraisingly and said
"Guid, guid .... noo there's usually a fair skelp o whisky swallied, can ye handle yer drink?"
Tarquin laughed
"I assure you I can, whilst it has been delightful to have the solitude of the hills , I'm well used to socialising and the best of single malts in abundance"
Lachie nodded
"Guid, guid ..... one mair thing ... efter the drinkin, there's usually a fair bit o fechtin and wrestlin, can ye handle yersel?"
Tarquin chortled again
"Oh all in good faith I take it? I played rugger for years and got a boxing blue at Cambridge, no problem Lachie!"
Lachie nodded happily
"Guid, guid ....... noo .... efter the drinkin an the fechtin, there's usually a hell o a lot of rampant sex, is that a problem for ye?"
Tarquin was very quick to answer
"What can I say Lachie , after 6 months alone here, it sounds wonderful!"
Lachie nodded and started to head out of the house
"Guid, guid, a'll see you at my place then, 6 o'clock on Saturday nicht"
As he was leaving Tarquin suddenly had a thought and called out
"Oh - Lachie, what's the dress code for the night? Formal or smart casual?"
"Ach please yersel min .............. it'll just be the twa o us"