Xmas party number one

It was the day of office Christmas party number one.

Yesterday was a day of contrasts. After the usual rumpus getting to school [late], stopping en route to the tube station to buy bread for packed lunches and finding nowhere to park, I had a relaxing tube ride into central London for a work meeting and then it was the workingmums’ office Christmas party. We retired to a Chinese restaurant and ate A LOT. We then moved on to a very dark underground karaoke bar with wigs and Santa outfits in it and proceeded to murder all the old favourites [at least I did]. The sales team put in some stunning performances, but marketing were also in full throat. Simon Cowell would have been impressed, or possibly frightened. I put Personal Jesus on in honour of my Depeche Mode-obsessed partner…
I had to leave early as I had arranged to do an interview at 5.30pm, the only time the person could do. Now, finding a quiet spot in central London pre-xmas where you can do an interview is not an easy feat. I had been told there was a good hotel in Charlotte Street. Unfortunately, I could not remember exactly where Charlotte Street was so arrived at the hotel around 5.20pm. It was packed with people making a lot of noise. I left and considered briefly Caffe Uno. Again, lots of people. I also considered back alleyways, but thought, with my luck, I would probably be mugged mid-interview.
With five minutes to spare I found the gloriously quiet Rathbone Hotel. I thought I had better get a drink to justify sitting in the lobby. Unfortunately, the barman had no change and told me to pay at reception. There was a long queue of people checking in at reception. The various clocks showing the time in Tokyo, the UK and other regions of the world ticked by. At 5.29pm I paid for my drink and retired to the lobby. The interview went fine and I rushed to the tube. Unfortunately, after a couple of years’ absence, I had forgotten what the tube is like in the rush hour. I had particularly forgotten what the tube is like in the pre-xmas rush hour and, of course, I had totally forgotten what the tube is like when you’re pregnant. I was crushed in a corner, being shoved against the glass by a tall man. I told him I was pregnant. His face showed absolutely no reaction and he didn’t adjust his position. I managed, after about 7 stops, to clamber my way into the bit between the seats and clung onto the pole there and closed my eyes, hoping it would all end soon. I felt sick.
Then a group of girls got on the train and proceeded to scream at another group of girls for about 7 or 8 stops. I debated with myself which stop they would get off at. I guessed correctly. I then walked to the car, which was parked miles away up dark side streets and had completely misted up because big girl daughter had left the window open a crack. I arrived home, ready to do battle again the next day for xmas party number two.

Follow Mum on the run on twitter at WorkMumOnTheRun
Follow Workingmums on twitter at Workingmums 

Post a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *