I went on a works night out last night. If I thought the days where I work were noisy, you should see the nights.
It's not the kind of evening I like really. Loud music, booze, drinks getting spilled (I had to work hard to override my desire to wipe them up, not really my job last night).
It was a lot like going back in time. It was pretty much like the nights out I used to go on in the 80s except without the fear of being refused entry for being underage. Oh, and there seem to be more different colours of drinks now. Some people were already drunk when I arrived. The plan seemed to be to get more sober during the course of the evening. I think it's a recession thing. Getting pre-drunk. It's cheaper in the long run.
And with the benefit of modern technology, you don't have to rely on hazy half-remembered memories anymore. Most evenings I went on when I was younger, you were lucky if you could remember them afterwards. I once woke up in somebody's laundry room on a pile of ironing, I'm not sure how I got there. Now everything is recorded instantly on digital cameras and iphones, so even if I had been drinking I would probably have been able to track my whereabouts quite easily. This kind of thing must be useful if you go missing. It probably helps the police no end in their enquiries.
At one point I went upstairs in Aspire, and there was a 50th birthday party going on. Loads of people with grey hair. I suddenly felt quite at home, and I thought I might be able to blag my way into their party, but in the end I decided against it. I did think it seemed like an inappropriate choice of venue for a 50th, but then Joss told me you could book that room for free, so that's maybe why. I think having the party upstairs was a bad idea for some of those old guys. Some of them could hardly get up and down the stairs. Walking sticks, crutches, arthritis etc. The people I was with couldn't walk either, but at least their legs would be fully functional again by the morning.
During the course of the evening I kept putting moisurising gel into my eyes, to stop them from getting too sore, and it got me through the night still able to drive home. I did get some funny looks in the mens' toilet though when I was applying it. I think a couple of the guys in there thought I was taking drugs directly into my eyes. They were drunk enough, I maybe should have tried to sell them some. I should have told them it was the next big thing.
By the time we set off on the walk from Aspire to Avalon I decided it was time to bow out. The proximity of the car park was too tempting, and there's only so many photos an old sober person can get into the back of, before you start to think maybe you should let the young people get on with it.
But it was a pretty good evening overall. I tried a hat on, I had a strawberry cider and I got my picture taken about 100 times. I just felt that if I'd stayed any longer I would have turned into that guy who used to dress up in the different sports kits, and run into the back of team photos, photos of teams that he wasn't in. The one who got into the England cricket team, and the Manchester United team after they won the Champions League.
This was at least my team. I wasn't just pretending. But in the end, I think there's a point when old and sober goes one way and young and drunk goes the other, and I'd reached that point.
I like the people I work with. They're pretty nice, either when they're sober or when they're drunk. But if it was up to me, I'd prefer to spend time with them somewhere quieter. Maybe with tea and biscuits instead of Jaeger bombs. And I'd like to have some conversations with them where you don't have to shout.
It's not the kind of evening I like really. Loud music, booze, drinks getting spilled (I had to work hard to override my desire to wipe them up, not really my job last night).
It was a lot like going back in time. It was pretty much like the nights out I used to go on in the 80s except without the fear of being refused entry for being underage. Oh, and there seem to be more different colours of drinks now. Some people were already drunk when I arrived. The plan seemed to be to get more sober during the course of the evening. I think it's a recession thing. Getting pre-drunk. It's cheaper in the long run.
And with the benefit of modern technology, you don't have to rely on hazy half-remembered memories anymore. Most evenings I went on when I was younger, you were lucky if you could remember them afterwards. I once woke up in somebody's laundry room on a pile of ironing, I'm not sure how I got there. Now everything is recorded instantly on digital cameras and iphones, so even if I had been drinking I would probably have been able to track my whereabouts quite easily. This kind of thing must be useful if you go missing. It probably helps the police no end in their enquiries.
At one point I went upstairs in Aspire, and there was a 50th birthday party going on. Loads of people with grey hair. I suddenly felt quite at home, and I thought I might be able to blag my way into their party, but in the end I decided against it. I did think it seemed like an inappropriate choice of venue for a 50th, but then Joss told me you could book that room for free, so that's maybe why. I think having the party upstairs was a bad idea for some of those old guys. Some of them could hardly get up and down the stairs. Walking sticks, crutches, arthritis etc. The people I was with couldn't walk either, but at least their legs would be fully functional again by the morning.
During the course of the evening I kept putting moisurising gel into my eyes, to stop them from getting too sore, and it got me through the night still able to drive home. I did get some funny looks in the mens' toilet though when I was applying it. I think a couple of the guys in there thought I was taking drugs directly into my eyes. They were drunk enough, I maybe should have tried to sell them some. I should have told them it was the next big thing.
By the time we set off on the walk from Aspire to Avalon I decided it was time to bow out. The proximity of the car park was too tempting, and there's only so many photos an old sober person can get into the back of, before you start to think maybe you should let the young people get on with it.
But it was a pretty good evening overall. I tried a hat on, I had a strawberry cider and I got my picture taken about 100 times. I just felt that if I'd stayed any longer I would have turned into that guy who used to dress up in the different sports kits, and run into the back of team photos, photos of teams that he wasn't in. The one who got into the England cricket team, and the Manchester United team after they won the Champions League.
This was at least my team. I wasn't just pretending. But in the end, I think there's a point when old and sober goes one way and young and drunk goes the other, and I'd reached that point.
I like the people I work with. They're pretty nice, either when they're sober or when they're drunk. But if it was up to me, I'd prefer to spend time with them somewhere quieter. Maybe with tea and biscuits instead of Jaeger bombs. And I'd like to have some conversations with them where you don't have to shout.
Good, very good!
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