Sunday, 23rd September 2007
Fucking hell: I made a RIGHT twat of myself on Friday night.
I went to the pub with Old Friend At Work and Unimpressed Planner – and naturally, there were quite a few others from work there as well: including a man who shall now be known as Creative Baffled To Find Himself The Butt of Planners’ Vitriol For No Good Reason (or “Baffled” for short).
The incident: Old Friend At Work haranguing him loudly and at length for imagined slights on our discipline, as I shouted from the sidelines (my favourite witty rejoinder being “Bollocks!”) seemed to go on for a couple of hours until I stumbled home, where I returned at 1am.
The hangover was not BRILLIANT, and even dwelling on the night in question long enough to write this entry makes me feel a bit sick. I cannot imagine how we are both going to handle Baffled hereon in: we virtually called for his lynching, but we had better organise a united front – and (I think) simply pretend that it never happened, although, there were (I fear) witnesses…
