Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, February 29, 2008

Old Skool

I've spoke to you before of Drunken Parachute, yes? This is going into the room at the beginning of the night and spying a guy who's just on the wrong side of being attractive to you. The drink will flow, your eyes will start to get a little bit gimlet, and the very second that you're drunk enough to think 'you know, in a certain light and if he lost the beer belly...' that is the moment you bail out of there like a child abuser from Jersey.

I hadn't done old skool drinking in a long time. It was a BBC corporate event, themed like a rock night so each table came with a pile of silver space wigs, glowing microphones, nasty white wine and a centerpiece that everyone was threatening to nick. With the wigs and the wine, come midnight it was like looking out over a RAH Band video. And that was the moment the free vodka bar opened and they started playing '9 to 5' on the dancefloor.

I don't remember much else after that, clearly. I do recall being on the dance floor and some guy from the next office bumping into me. He said something about all the girls I was dancing with (office gays dancing with an entourage of girls from Finance? Who'd have thought!) and I nodded, and then he said something else which I didn't hear but gave him one of those non-committal 'yeah!'s you do when you don't really hear but want to sound positive. And then he looked at me like I'd offered to rape him with a spiked bowling ball and went and moved off the dancefloor at speed. I wonder what he'd said...

And it was about 3am that my Parachute almost failed to deploy; I recall a weird and sudden imperative to hang around with (ie try and pull) one of the execs. Well, he seemed very friendly. Like he'd never turn out a friend, a stranger, or a four course meal by the look of him. Fortunately I got steered away by another colleague to help him drink a round of champagne.

And that's when it goes a bit black, I have to say.

I awoke at 9am, face down on the floor of my hotel room, fully clothed, silver wig askew and a carpet burn on my face from where I'd landed. Which was a shame as it was a five-star room and I recall from my traditional new-room-bounce-on-the-bed-throw-the-Gideons-bible-out-the-window arrival that it was quite comfy. And so, with all the grace of two epileptics sharing a bowl of noodles, I arose, collected my things and headed to work. Yesterday was not a good day. I spent most of it shaking like a shitting dog.

And let that be a lesson for you. Have a good weekend.


Tim said...

They spent my license fee money on silver space wigs and glowing microphones!?


Unless, of course, I get invited to the next one, in which case shall I wear a tie or just go open neck?

Lee said...

'open neck' is certainly a good description of how I was drinking, Tim darling.

Kezza said...

Open neck is quite a handy skill to have, or so I've heard.

Honestly Lee, one again I have tears of laughter strolling down my face and some of my co-workers think I may have busted a valve trying to stiffle my laughter.

The shaking dog alanogy takes the cake though - I've had days like that. Not pretty let me tell you! My heart goes out to you, along with something deep-fried. I find thats usually pretty helpful!

Tim said...

Well, if there was a free vodka bar it would've been rude not to!

Especially as I was paying for it.

Qenny said...

I have tears in my eyes as a result of the epileptics/noodles thing.

Oh, you are a one.