Sore head, shaky hands
This morning I am hungover. And it's not like I had a night out last night. Infact, I worked until 8, went home to Clapham, bought myself a gorgeous bottle of Loire Valley white wine, sunk a few vodka tonics waiting for Steve to get home and then cracked open the wine and drank away. By the time we ate dinner at 10.30, I was too drunk to be able to taste it. I swore at the tv and then passed out. It was a fun evening.
But there is a reason for all this gratuitous mid-week drinking, I'm trying to build up my alcohol tolerance for next weeks trip to Padstow. Why? Because my friend Dave has trusted me to go away for a drinking fuelled corporate hospitality trip with some of his biggest clients, namely the top management of a well known Northern supermarket, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him down by calling any one of them a 'f**ker' or a 'ruddy faced c**t' which I have been known to do, and then puke in the helecopter the following morning. This is serious stuff though, one of bestest friend's reputation in his career depends on me not getting my slammers out too much, or swearing or saying anything inappropriate, and I'm going to be drunk. It's a recipe for disaster (as Steve tells me every 5 minutes).
So there's nothing else for it, but to continue the heavy drinking regime, in a committed and positive fashion and try and overcome the bad behaviour, puking and hangovers. We leave next Tuesday, so I have some decent drinking hours to put in before then.
My dress code for the weekend is as follows: smart/casual. Hate that. What does it mean? For men 'slacks' and a polo neck, or an open necked shirt, but for women? Apparently jeans and trainers are out, so essentially I'm going to be dressed in what I wear to work, and given that I'm going to be leaping in an out of a 'copter, mingling with the local baby lobsters in the hatchery and cooking them for dinner, is this really practical? My wardrobe doesn't stretch to such things as 'a nice blouse' or 'smart trousers' really. Hurrumph. This calls for some clothes shopping I fear. Littlewoods here I come.
2 comments:
Oh for the love of God. There was an alternative 'girl friend' I could have invited who would have been far more sedate, professional and has been brought up properly to know that women just do not use the word c**t.
But hey, at least I am going to have a giggle and hopefully the customers will too. They're proper northern so at least they haven't had a sense of humor bypass. I don't think hospitals are that advanced up there yet!
Can I take out an insurance policy against me losing my job as a result of this jolly?
Oh Dave! Lucy wasn't available and so you're left with me. It's tough, but I'm cuter anyway (with the possible exception of potty mouth incidents).
I'll check with Steve, there might be some form of professional indemnity policy against unforeseen circumstances (including too much booze).
Of course I jest about all this, I'm going to be as good as gold...and the two bottles of wine I plan to drink tonight will help me to reach my goal of brownie point behaviour.
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