Friday 16 December 2016

The annual Christmas works do, or, How to Survive a Night With The Boss

By the time I arrived in the pub, TBE (aka The Boss Erratic) had already cornered the New Favourite Shop’s Landlord and was busy schmoozing him into submission. Occasionally he’d throw pleading glances to others around the room, but to no avail. No one was coming to rescue him.

Then TBE sent him to the bar, and whilst he was away she seized her chance to drag a row of seats into a straight line directly opposite the Landlord’s vacant chair, and bizarrely instructed us employees to sit in them shoulder to shoulder. I felt like I was back at school. When the Landlord returned to his chair, there we all were: a row of staring faces, like a hostile jury with personal space issues. He looked terrified.

Photo: Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM)

Poor Landlord sat down and gazed miserably at the one solitary glass of wine he’d bought for TBE and looked at us. We stared back at him. He didn’t offer us a drink.

Then he tried to escape. But TBE was having none of it. She grabbed his hand, refused to let him go and insisted he sat back down with us. He had no choice, he was pulled back into the witches’ coven.

Two minutes later he was up again, making another bid for freedom. And once again, TBE grabbed his hand, and pleaded, cajoled and bullied him into sitting back down. We employees stared at him. He looked unbearably uncomfortable. And a little bit sick.

Undeterred, he tried a third time. TBE tried to grab his hand but this time he was wise to her and swiped it out of the way as she nearly fell off her chair. And then he was gone. The prey had escaped the hunter. Well done Landlord, but don’t rest easy, it’s only a temporary reprieve, and you know it.

So, off we all went to the restaurant.

I say all; there was TBE, one part time employee, the New Tweeny Exploitee and me. (Landlord wasn’t invited, he was just a happy pub accident. And since he’d run off we’d probably never find him anyway).

The meal was lovely, but TBE spent most of the night pulling back her chin fat and posing for selfies with the New Tweeny Exploitee, whilst exclaiming (increasingly loudly),”Look at us! Just two lovely young girlies doing a selfie together!”

I promise you, even this doesn't do it justice...
Original photo: oneunitymedia, Pixabay

In between selfies, clearly gripped by booze, desperation, and the spectre of her lost youth, TBE fawned endlessly over poor Tweeny; stroking her, playing with her hair and exclaiming, “Look! We’re just the same!”

Yep, Tweeny is definitely TBE’s new BFF. Not sure whether Tweeny realises it though.

Also, Tweeny is fifteen.

The rest of the long, long night was spent:

  •        Talking about smudge sticks, which apparently aren’t some sort of bodily produced paint sex tool, but a wodge of herby stuff used to ward off spirits in houses with ‘bad karma’.

Really? Listen to yourselves! A) Spirits don’t give a house bad karma, B) There are no spirits, C) I’m not sure the description I was given is entirely right….

  •          Fending off a particularly rabid Alpha Male Brexiter:

Why are you talking at us? We didn’t even ask you anything! I don’t care if you want to have Boris Johnson’s love child! I just want to eat my noodles! Go away!

  •          Trying to stop TBE from crowning herself with the carousel of whiskey bottles sat on the counter behind her head:

(Fiddle fiddle…Fiddle fiddle)

“Oooo! What does this bit do?! Is this where it comes out?!”

A) Course it’s where it comes out, it’s an optic, not a Chinese puzzle box, B) Stop yelling and making it so frigging obvious you’re messing with the restaurant’s stuff, C) Leave it alone! I don’t want a night in A&E, and I’m not paying for a floor full of whiskey!

Ah, such fun times. I wore a pasted on a grin throughout - and consequently looked like a constipated Cheshire Cat all evening. But I did it. I got through the night. 

Pass me that Oscar, I bloody well deserve it. 

And the gin. For God’s sake pass me the gin.


  1. Ahahahaaaa! You poor thing - thanks for allowing us a laugh at your expense! It sounds utterly cringe worthy from start to finish - but the photo of Britney with Grizzelda Terrahawk made me shriek with laughter Siobhan xx

  2. Haha! Thank you Siobhan! I was trying to find a photo in which there was pouting - because there was a lot of pouting on the night. Britney Tweeny looked like a model, Grizzelda TBE looked like she was trying to spit her false teeth out.

  3. Thank you! I think the girl in the picture still looks too pretty though; not enough neck fat.

  4. Oh my gosh! Selfies and smudge sticks! What a night! Are you going out again together to celebrate New Year?

    1. Oh God! I hope not! I couldn't stand it! No, I probably won't see her until about May now, given her past record...