I have been down South, well not that far South, Leeds actually for my annual justification of my existence as a worker drone. As some of you may remember from previous rants that this is second only to "soft skills pish" training in the activities that I despise but have to participate in, in order to make a crust. As my boss is from the south, the home of the Wedding Present seemed an adequate compromise, closer for her but also near enough for me to drive rather than depend on Fly(may)BE. I decided that I would do a site visit on Tuesday in the North East and then drive down the A1 stay in the hotel where we were to meet, however there was no rooms available. No problem I thought as there were a few decent hotels nearby. Unfortunately the Malmaison was no longer within Company policy nor was the Hotel du Vin in Harrogate or any of the other hotels that I fancied! It was the Wetherby Mercure for me.
By the time I rocked up to the hotel on Tuesday night I was already feeling rather low as the site visit didn't go as planned and the prospect of talking myself up the following day hardly filled me with joy. So I decided a couple of pints of Stella and a burger would perk me up a bit. I was half way through my second pint when my meal arrived and just as I took the first bite, I heard something familiar coming through the muffled sound system. I never ever thought that hearing the beatless mix of Smokebelch II by the Sabres of Paradise would ever do anything other than fill my heart with joy. But as I called the waiter over to take the burger back to the kitchen, on account of it being fucking raw, I realised that on top of everything else hearing this absolute classic in such inappropriate surroundings had made me thoroughly depressed and there was nothing else for it but to order another pint of strong Belgian lager to weep into!
Sabres Of Paradise - Smokebelch II (Beatless mix)
10 comments:
I feel your pain Drew. I'm the veteran of many a soulless and pointless work related jaunt myself and your sorry tale brought back some crappy memories I'd rather forget for good.
An out of the blue (and out of context) tune can introduce a shaft of sunlight to the most dismal of days.
Which - again - leads me to question what you might possibly be doing for a living, Drew?
Dirk, my guess is international playboy and Bon viveur
In fucking Luton, CC??!! Naah, must be something else!
Drew, you can't beat this. I'm going to spend the next Friday, Monday and Tuesday afternoons meeting my students' parents. Happy happy joy joy. My intention is to explain to them in fine detail why they should've watched television instead, that fateful night.
the lot of the international middle ranking exec/technician. I know it well brother. Still theres tomorrow nights xhristma ho-ha to look forward too. Then i'm off to that infamous Luton Holiday Inn just off the roundabout for 3 nights next week. And some kip called Leighton buzzard to look at refrigerated boxes and the associated validation of. Hark the Herald Bastards!
Post of the week.
Swiss Adam
Neither a bon viveur or a playboy Dirk, as you rightly pointed out neither of those are to be found in Luton. Three night Anto, jesus you will come back with ptsd!! Luca, that's the sort of thing I would say!
Depressing post (says he just back from a day trip that started at 4.15am and finished 11.15pm.
I bloody hate travelling for work. It's always the complete opposite of going on holiday.
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