Friday, January 27, 2006
On The Razz
Thank f*** it's Friday!
This place is so depressing, the depressives are now off the scale with depression. There is a general feeling of apathy toward everything this company says and does and the management seem to prefer to handle it by closing their ears and eyes and looking skyward.
To quote Daffy Duck: "What a way to run a railroad!"
I headed to Clark's Barat lunchtime for some much needed respite. A lovely cheese and pickle roll from the bar platter washed down with a beautiful pint of freshly chilled Tennent's Lager. I was back in the office for a stint in the afternoon getting ready for an implementation tomorrow night, but after I was done I was back in Clark's.
One of my pals has achieved a career advancement to his benefit, and so the evening turned into somewhat of a celebration. I sold two more books while in Clark's, too - lovely jubbly!
We moved from Clark's to some stuck-up bar off George Street. It was dire. Full of ponces who are so much better than everyone else because they dress in designer gear and drive porches. And there's me with my big black raincoat on and stubble, handing out leaflets for Fringe Fantastic. I seem to remember a posh old woman shouting at Tom for something so we left soon after.
We went to the new piano bar in the West End; The Rat Pack Piano Bar. It's very red inside; red and dark. We took a seat in the empty club and sat with our drinks talking and watching the video of The Rat Pack live in St. Louis from about 1963 or something like that.
Zander ordered champagne and some of Tom's work pals joined us later to make up the numbers. The champers didn't sit with me. It's too rich for my pallet and I've never been a fan so I turned most of it down, preferring to stick to my vodka.
We went to another bar but I can't for the life of me remember what it was called. I remember it being very cold and I remember there being a lot of young clubbers there. I remember feeling quite out of place and leaving soon after.
Taxis were about but I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I managed to get myself onto a night bus at the east end after walking for a couple of miles and then walked the rest of the way from Leith Walk to the house. It was around 2am when I got in and I think I may have been a tad pissed.
That ends the flashbacks so there's nothing more I can add.
ORDER a copy of my latest book, FRINGE FANTASTIC!Click here to order securely using your credit/debit card.
For more information about Fringe Fantastic, please go to the website: http://fringefantastic.colingalbraith.co.uk
This place is so depressing, the depressives are now off the scale with depression. There is a general feeling of apathy toward everything this company says and does and the management seem to prefer to handle it by closing their ears and eyes and looking skyward.
To quote Daffy Duck: "What a way to run a railroad!"
I headed to Clark's Barat lunchtime for some much needed respite. A lovely cheese and pickle roll from the bar platter washed down with a beautiful pint of freshly chilled Tennent's Lager. I was back in the office for a stint in the afternoon getting ready for an implementation tomorrow night, but after I was done I was back in Clark's.
One of my pals has achieved a career advancement to his benefit, and so the evening turned into somewhat of a celebration. I sold two more books while in Clark's, too - lovely jubbly!
We moved from Clark's to some stuck-up bar off George Street. It was dire. Full of ponces who are so much better than everyone else because they dress in designer gear and drive porches. And there's me with my big black raincoat on and stubble, handing out leaflets for Fringe Fantastic. I seem to remember a posh old woman shouting at Tom for something so we left soon after.
We went to the new piano bar in the West End; The Rat Pack Piano Bar. It's very red inside; red and dark. We took a seat in the empty club and sat with our drinks talking and watching the video of The Rat Pack live in St. Louis from about 1963 or something like that.
Zander ordered champagne and some of Tom's work pals joined us later to make up the numbers. The champers didn't sit with me. It's too rich for my pallet and I've never been a fan so I turned most of it down, preferring to stick to my vodka.
We went to another bar but I can't for the life of me remember what it was called. I remember it being very cold and I remember there being a lot of young clubbers there. I remember feeling quite out of place and leaving soon after.
Taxis were about but I was always in the wrong place at the wrong time. I managed to get myself onto a night bus at the east end after walking for a couple of miles and then walked the rest of the way from Leith Walk to the house. It was around 2am when I got in and I think I may have been a tad pissed.
That ends the flashbacks so there's nothing more I can add.
ORDER a copy of my latest book, FRINGE FANTASTIC!
For more information about Fringe Fantastic, please go to the website: http://fringefantastic.colingalbraith.co.uk
Colin 11:30 pm
1 Comments:
Hope you can escape the job soon - it sounds horrendous! (and after reading Fringe Fantastic, I suspect your writing might be your road to escape!)
