In a twist of seasonal irony so rich it could be served with gravy, Rochdale Council’s chief executive, James Binks, has been suspended following revelations he turned last year’s Manchester City Council Christmas bash into his own sleaze-stained Strictly audition, allegedly with a junior female colleague as his reluctant dance partner.
According to a report by those brave souls at Weightmans LLP, the Dirty Martini bar saw more than just spilled cocktails last Christmas, it also hosted what has now been officially branded a “creepy” and “sleazy” dancefloor performance. Witnesses claim Binks, then assistant chief executive, took it upon himself to ‘grind’ against a subordinate in a festive expression of power dynamics that would make even Boris Johnson blush into his Bailey’s.
Naturally, this didn’t go unnoticed. Council HR chief Mark Bennett, presumably wielding a festive mince pie in one hand and a copy of the disciplinary handbook in the other, reportedly intervened. Sadly, this HR intervention did little to remove the scent of Lynx Africa and broken dignity from the dance floor.
Binks, now suspended from his £200,000 post in Rochdale, insists there was no sexual element to the incident, just a classic case of “misinterpreted pelvic enthusiasm,” perhaps. Rochdale Council, with all the gravitas of a local authority holding a very hot potato, issued a statement confirming the suspension and announced that an acting chief executive would be named shortly, presumably someone with a clean dance record.
In an unfortunate case of calendar irony, news of Binks’ alleged dance-floor misdemeanours broke just days after he fronted a White Ribbon event in Rochdale aimed at tackling violence against women and promoting respectful behaviour from men. Sources close to reality report that the ribbon has since been recoiled in on itself out of sheer embarrassment.
Cllr Neil Emmott, leader of the council, has instructed the monitoring officer to examine the full Manchester complaint, presumably with gloves and tongs. The investigation is expected to continue until at least the next Christmas party season, when all involved can test whether anyone’s learned a damn thing.
Meanwhile, MP Elsie Blundell called for apologies, which in political speak is code for “we’ll probably get a bland statement and a LinkedIn post.” Paul Waugh chimed in with a classic “public standards” line, suggesting that, in fact, Rochdale has any left.
But it was former deputy leader Sara Rowbotham who delivered the line of the week, declaring: “He needs the book thrown at him,” possibly followed by the jukebox and a tray of flaming Sambucas. She added that the White Ribbon campaign “should actually mean something,” which will come as news to most councillors who thought it just meant free lanyards and an awkward photo op.
Cllr Daniel Meredith, always one for brave introspection, said: “Personally, I was SHOCKED when I read this story,” which suggests he has either never met a senior male executive or has a heartwarming level of blind optimism.
As Rochdale residents digest the notion that their £200k-a-year civic leader might moonlight as a sleazy elf after a few proseccos, the borough awaits confirmation of an interim leader, ideally someone who can cha-cha without causing a HR incident.
In the meantime, Dirty Martini has quietly replaced its “Dance Like Nobody’s Watching” sign with “Dance Like HR Is Watching. Because They Are.”
