Aftermath

Firstly, a quick thankyou to everyone for the cold cures, I'm now back up to full health, or as close to it as I'll ever get. Still not found Nyquil round this way, but I did take RichardTheFluFighters suggestion of Berocca, which helped give back some energy, as well as turning my pee radioactive green. Awesome.

So onto the main event; Saturday Night.

As a quick quick re-cap for those who may have missed a few episodes, the company Christmas party was last week, which I missed because I was lame was very ill. Anyway, I was not too despondent, since that was just the company Christmas party, involving forced socialising with the people we already have to endure five days a week with. So, a night out on the following Saturday was planned as an alternative office party, involving just those that we actually want to socialise with, along with some long departed colleagues that we still keep in touch with. Which brings us round to Saturday lunchtime...

As usual, no plan goes without a hitch, and it seems London underground decided this was the ideal weekend for 'essential maintenance'. Obviously they had not realised it was the weekend of our Christmas party, and the subsequent trouble they caused us. What would normally have been a one hour journey to the city became a two and a half hour ordeal.

Finally, I arrived in Camden Town at around 2.15pm, and The World's End was open. Being the first to arrive (as usual), I grabbed my place at the bar and settled in with a pint. Eventually the others arrived, and it was on to a local restaurant for an early dinner to prepare us for the night ahead.

Now planning is not one of our strong points, so it was no surprise that after the meal, the first pub we tried was not actually open. In fact I don't think they were due to open for about a week. But after a bit of wandering randomly around Camden and Kentish Town, one of the group took us to a bar they knew of, and we all bundled in.

At this point, I wish we'd had decent enough cameras to get some pictures of inside this place, or been sober enough to work what cameras we had, because this place was special. The main room had walls and ceiling made of a tent like material, but made to look like wood. There were several life sized horses around the bar. There were several video screens playing an endless loop of a fireplace. There were, in addition to the mini sofas, mattresses in alcoves for those who wanted to lay back. There were (fake) stuffed animal heads on the walls, decorated for the festive season. Yes, this place was memorable.

But for me, the most memorable feature will be the barmaids, and in particular, a cute Brazilian barmaid who whipped a bottle opener out of her knee high boots. Naturally, I tried on the old charm:

My Perception

Me: Good evening my dear, I'll have two beers for my friends here, a whisky for myself, and whatever you're having.

Barmaid: Sure thing, there's your drinks, and here's my number.


Reality

Me: Evenin' luv, I'lll ave tu beeeers un a whishky, an a waherh yr ayyy.

Barmaid: That'll be £21.50, and please stop drooling on the bar Sir.


After that, the evening turned into the usual mixture of low brow conversations and random hugging of people (our group does get extremely friendly after a few drinks), and then came the creepy staring guy. I was chatting away with a couple of the others, when this guy in a white suit and large afro, walks up behind my friend and just stares at us with a big smile on his face. Early attempts to ignore him fail, and so my friend turns to him, shakes his hand, and asks if he finds us interesting. The guy smiles a little more, then wanders off to a group of girls to give them the pleasure of his gaze. This happened several times throughout the night, and we still have no idea why.

Sadly, the evening had to draw to a close around midnight, since the tube closures left us with few options for getting home, and so after another gruelling two hour journey home, I got home and collapsed into bed.

The next morning, I enjoyed those wonderful few seconds where I actually believed I'd got away without the hangover and was going to have a good day. Then I sat up. My head split open, and just the thought of food was enough to have me running to the bathroom. So Sunday was a write off.

Now, I have a week to recover before the weekend in Wales next weekend to celebrate a friends 30th. I'd like to say I've learnt from this weekend, I'd like to say I'll take it easy, just have a couple of drinks and an early night, but we all know how that will turn out. After all, what fun would that be!