dancing and downtime
We went for a ‘quick drink’ after the show, as is the rule on a Friday. You can almost guess what comes next can’t you…
Why is it always that when the whole team is planning on a just-the-one night, with lazy evening plans stretched ahead – people to see, packing to do, early nights to be looked forward to – that it ends up with messiness, bizarre revelations and a night bus home?
Last orders came and went and we left the pub with the full intention of wending our seperate ways. Then Steve decided that we really should go to The Borderline where Adam from work was DJing. You know – it’s not about us, it’s about supporting a colleague. We were to have 1 drink. and leave by 12.30 at the latest. No arguing.
Having had no dinner, I switched to water not too long after reaching the club, and was able to watch the carnage unfold. But what a night. I don’t think I’ve laughed so much in ages. And can you, for a moment, imagine just how surreal it is to be dancing at an indie night with the DJ with whom I currently work? You could see the double takes going on all around us; “Is that really Lammo playing air guitar to The Clash?”. As a team building excersice I’d rate it very highly.
Jacqs put herself on the wrong bus at 2.30, as certain as anyone is after that much booze that it’s going the right way, and only got home from Harlsden (for those who don’t know you REALLY don’t want to end up in Harlsden, on your own, in the middle of the night) at 5.30 with the help of a “proper gang”.
Today I’m uploading the stack of CDs that have been awaiting my attention for far too long and drinking my bodyweight in tea, relishing in the silence and selfishness of a weekend where all my friends are out of town. I forsee an evening of Daleks, Chinese takeaway, and long hours on the sofa. bliss.
Recent Comments