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A Dirty Job

Party Party Party.
Tuesday 31 July 2007

My apologies for the recent lack of prose.

I got totally fucked at the team party (not in that way, although others, of course, did), and basically came home, had a few more ciders, watched Leaving Las Vegas (you know, for the laughable irony) and then collapsed, spending most of my daylight hours under the darkness of cover.

The party was a blast - it always amuses to see who pairs up with whom, because relationships are always forming in large companies and while some of them are blatant there are several that you're like, "What the fuck!?" There's always, of course, several blokes after that one girl and several girls after that one bloke; add alcohol to the mix, and you have the recipe for a punch-up. Or, at least, as in this case, a bit of a camp Benny Hill-like chase around the park. Men can be such bitches.

Nothing to do with me, I might add. We spent all our time stashing an assortment of the free bottled beverages beneath our chairs so as to ensure that the hip, cool crowd on my table never ran out of hard liquor. Free is free; I think I put away about 15 bottles of Carlsberg, Smirnoff Ice, Red Square, some pissy orange/vodka shite and whatever else was available, mostly in variations on the turbo shandy theme. Yeah, classy.

Meantime, a covern of twenty-something ENTS girls felt it was their duty to collectively bitch at and roll their eyes towards the 31-year old dancing alone, but enthusiastically-slash-provocatively, in the middle of the room. "She has four children, you know," they'd say, then, "She should be ashamed. Where are her kids now? Where?" Women. Rarely take one for the team, I've found.

Otherwise, the usual shite at work - it's peak-season now, so we're packed, and naturally the depth and weight of guest numbers has immediately become inversely proportional to the amount of DS who decide to turn up for their shift. Just two of us tonight, and one of them was Bilbo, so more like one-and-a-half, really (and that's being generous.) Poor Jabba had to come in at 9pm, and might have to repeat this trick tomorrow. He has just come back from a week's holiday, but still, it's not his problem, and all that. Oh - and the new lady with the SIA badge has, it seems, already stated that she won't do doors here, or ever again, thanks to being beaten up quite severely a while back. Again, the complex isn't her problem either, but it all adds up to one gigantic pile o' shite.


posted by Sheamus @ 3:00 am




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