What to give a man who has all

Abirthday loomed and it was a biggie: “someone” was turning 50, a whole half-century. Himself (much, much older than me) was reaching extreme adulthood, the biggest birthday milestone existing between 21 and seventy.

But this posed a dilemma: what does one get for the modern man who has everything, who is everything, people were asking. It started in February when his best friend called.

“I saw a lovely book,” he said. I waited.

“It’s a coffee table book. Closeup photos,” he said. Long pause.

“But what is it actually about?” I finally asked, goaded. “Um … samurai swords.” “Maybe you could take him out for dinner instead?” I suggested, quietly amazed that there exists a whole series of coffee table books dedicated to samurai swords and marvelling that anyone could get it so wrong for their closest friend.

After that, the queries began in earnest, coming from all over the world.

What about a wallet? He has a wallet. Monogrammed then? Hardly. Cufflinks? Scarves? Records? Books? He has all of these, in abundance.

A signed Laurel & Hardy photo? He’s already got one.

Whiskey? He never touches the stuff, yet we have litres of it. A “man”-icure? He’d loathe it. An old typewriter? An old dust-collector.

A personalised astrology reading? Desperation was setting in…

Wine, I finally told everyone – he likes wine. But in truth, none were more desperate than me.

As his plus one, I am expected to be a gift oracle, to divine his secret wishes without actually asking and yet, in the most-panicked hours of night, I couldn’t help but wonder why we break our hearts to find “surprise” gifts for otherwise reasonable adults who’ve had more birthdays than they want to admit to, and yet who can’t be bothered to drop the odd hint; to throw a girl a bone.

He’s 50 – surely at that age people should stop being given clutter they haven’t asked for?

Finally he took the bait: he’d like a new desk chair, he said. Done!

Don’t let it be said that romance is dead in this house.

(And, for the record, I also asked those who know and love him to write a poem in his honour, and I’ve had these printed and bound in a beautiful gilded book.)