Monday, 28 February 2005

beer and skittles

The free beer was not a lie.

It wasn't a great vintage - but after a nightmare rig that ran three hours late, we weren't complaining.

You know that your is colleague is drunk when he spills his whisky on your ankles and then insists on licking it off because it was the last of his drink.

You know that you are drunk yourself when you find yourself pogo-ing along till the end of 'Teenage Kicks', despite the fact that your feet are killing your and it feels as if you are going to have a heart-attack.

You know that your client is drunk when she starts relating indiscreet tales about her directors whilst ordering a sixth round of samubca on her company credit card and insinuating that her boss has a friend called Charlie.

It wasn't all that wild, and we didn't drink all that much - but I think we're out of practice.

However, we were all present and correct at breakfast at 8.30, even if R did sit for most of the meal groaning with his head in his hands, having flashbacks about going on clubbing after the event finished.

And then we de-rigged and drank three pints of water each.

And then I came home to send out call-sheets for the ENORMOUS job we have tomorrow and Wednesday/Thursday, while the lads gathered up their hangovers and went to prep cables for the client.

I think they may be late home.

Excuse me, I am going to lie down now.

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