Saturday, February 02, 2008
Bright Lights, Big City
We don't go in for socialising at Company X so I get my 'works night out' kicks by going out with Girlfriend's lot. That's fine because they're now my friends too so it doesn't feel awkward or anything.
They went bowling after work last night, a group taking in the whole office rather than just my circle of pals. Girlfriend had opted out, and I didn't fancy going on my own and having people wonder who the hell was this unaccompanied stranger gatecrashing their bowling fun.
Juggling Protege was in a similar boat, so we arranged to have our own non-works night out and let people join us if they wanted, and it worked pretty well. JP and Charlie met me in favoured Preston pub, and we went for pizza and caught up.
JP has discovered the joys of nighttime photography, especially liking the bit where car headlights appear as long ribbons of light, so we've agreed to have a tripod night in Liverpool sometime.
Charlie was her usual perky self. She said they did darkroom theory at college but not practice, which is missing the point slightly.
I was brought up the hard way, spending gazillions of hours dodging and burning and producing test strips, playing Russian roulette with dermatitis in blacked out rooms. I said I didn't think she'd missed much.
Back in favoured pub we were joined by the others, giddy with post-bowling excitement. Leanne, Fairly Famous Actor and Gareth had had their picture taken in an automatic pencil style portrait booth. It wasn't exactly flattering. “Scarf? That's not a scarf. That's one of my chins.”
Leanne lamented how going to work isn't fun like it used to be. She and Harriet are going to San Diego later this year. “I never knew going out with someone could be so easy,” she said.
Canoeing Instructor is dietting and looking well on it.
I finally met the much discussed Mrs. Gareth of Gareth and Mrs. Gareth fame. She was more mumsy than I'd imagined, less flighty. From this sighting, I got the impression he was her little boy.
On the last train home FFA – like myself, a little under the influence by now – told me how hard it can be getting anything theatrical off the ground in Blackpool. He admitted that, to a greater or lesser extent, the amateur dramatics thing is about hoping to meet women. Which is fair enough. He said he was off to a meeting the next day for some new venture a friend is launching. He's keeping optimistic.
They went bowling after work last night, a group taking in the whole office rather than just my circle of pals. Girlfriend had opted out, and I didn't fancy going on my own and having people wonder who the hell was this unaccompanied stranger gatecrashing their bowling fun.
Juggling Protege was in a similar boat, so we arranged to have our own non-works night out and let people join us if they wanted, and it worked pretty well. JP and Charlie met me in favoured Preston pub, and we went for pizza and caught up.
JP has discovered the joys of nighttime photography, especially liking the bit where car headlights appear as long ribbons of light, so we've agreed to have a tripod night in Liverpool sometime.
Charlie was her usual perky self. She said they did darkroom theory at college but not practice, which is missing the point slightly.
I was brought up the hard way, spending gazillions of hours dodging and burning and producing test strips, playing Russian roulette with dermatitis in blacked out rooms. I said I didn't think she'd missed much.
Back in favoured pub we were joined by the others, giddy with post-bowling excitement. Leanne, Fairly Famous Actor and Gareth had had their picture taken in an automatic pencil style portrait booth. It wasn't exactly flattering. “Scarf? That's not a scarf. That's one of my chins.”
Leanne lamented how going to work isn't fun like it used to be. She and Harriet are going to San Diego later this year. “I never knew going out with someone could be so easy,” she said.
Canoeing Instructor is dietting and looking well on it.
I finally met the much discussed Mrs. Gareth of Gareth and Mrs. Gareth fame. She was more mumsy than I'd imagined, less flighty. From this sighting, I got the impression he was her little boy.
On the last train home FFA – like myself, a little under the influence by now – told me how hard it can be getting anything theatrical off the ground in Blackpool. He admitted that, to a greater or lesser extent, the amateur dramatics thing is about hoping to meet women. Which is fair enough. He said he was off to a meeting the next day for some new venture a friend is launching. He's keeping optimistic.

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