Drinkie poos
Grandad December 20th, 2010
Back in the Bad Old Days, this was a week I dreaded.
It was the week of the office drinks.
I enjoy a sup as well as the next man, and generally I am not that fussy about where I sup my sup. I can drink at the bar or in a lounge. I can enjoy a wee dram by the fire at home. I can neck a can in the garden or on the beach. As Herself would say – I would drink drink off a sore leg. In fact I would go so far as to say I will drink anywhere, with one major exception.
There is one place where the finest whiskey will taste like drain cleaner, or a can of stout will go down like a lead baloon, and that is in an office.
The week before Christmas was traditionally the time when the various departments in my place of employment would open the bottom drawers in their filing cabinets and produce the booze. We were then expected to go around the various departments and “show our faces”. I fucking hated that lark, but orders were orders and we had to do it. I usually fucked off to the pub in the sure and certain knowledge that the various offices would be too pissed to notice whether I was there or not.
There is something very very wrong about drinking in an office. You can’t slop a pint down anywhere in case you would drench some important memo. You can’t sit anywhere as there are only enough chairs for the staff of that office and naturally they are always taken. Worst of all though is the conversation. The only topic is work, naturally enough. You are surrounded by computers, phones and filing cabinets so it is impossible to get away from the subject.
This is one week when I am particularly glad I don’t work any more.
- work
- Comments(7)
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Given who your employers were, would it be right to assume there was plenty of snow? And not the kind that falls from the sky!
Well he is rather crank y
Imagine our office parties where everyone is undercover or classified and there are no extra chairs either.
GD..I can relate. As an old school teacher, all I had to do is confiscate a few lunch bags and find a some really good stuff that would help me through the afternoons.
My first job was with Courage Breweries at their IT centre in Park Royal, London. It was my first Christmas there and they had just launched a new ale, Directors Bitter. (They had to weaken it a few months later as it was too strong!). Anyway they decided to have an office party where you could bring as many friends as you liked and the Directors was free all night.
Seriously, it turned into a riot!
Robert – Have you been listening to nasty rumours again? I wouldn’t know anything about that kind of thing. *whistles and tries to look innocent*
TT – Who?
Willie – Don’t tell me the kids threw drink parties in the classrooms. That’s a novel idea. Could make school somewhat bearable?
Mick – I would imagine that a brewery [or distillery] is about the only place on earth where office drinks would be tolerable. You could bring friends? Fuck! My shower wouldn’t even allow partners to the Christmas dinner. Lucky partners!
GD…One quickly learns that those little devils would shoot up oranges with vodka and bring them as their snacks. Well, what is a dedicated teacher to do but take the little treats away, only to sneak off to the men’s room and sample such delights? Usually, the kids didn’t care as they had fortified themselves for a long day of learning by smoking a joint or two as an eye-opener or on a quick trip to the Principal’s office. Ah, those were the good old days. I am glad I don’t have to face what is going on now in schools.