Saturday, February 05, 2005

Death to the SUV Drivers!

Crazy Bastard in an SUV

This isn't a reference to the craziness, crassness and downright self-indulgent waste that is implicit in the ownership and use of these vehicles. Nope, not at all, its about the arrogant detachment and fuck you all attitude of the bastards who drive them. I was out at our office Christmas extravaganza last night, more of which later, and thewife was kind enough to pick me up (in a relatively sober state may I add) from Kilwinning station, when I got off the train. On the way home, at the junction artistically re-created above, we were over( or should that be under)taken by some flash bastard in a big black SUV . You can see in the above picture, the red lines show the direction of traffic flow that should happen at the junction, the yellow line shows the actual path taken. What I can't show in the picture is that when you cross the junction the road narrows back into a single lane, hence mister bastard's extremely dangerous manouevre could have resulted in quite a nasty accident. At the time I yelled "I hope you die you bastard" I still do, in a bad smash where only they get hurt.

Our office Christmas extravaganza was you may well think a tad late or early, but either way, was a deliberate choice on our part. We suspended the eclebration until February, knowing full well that we wouldn't be crammed in, rushed through the conveyer belt of sub-standard, overpriced Christmas fare that is the norm at that time of year. Indeed we went to Esca in the Trongate, to which I am more than happy to extend a plug for their welcome hospitality, good food, charming surroundings and very reasonable prices. The only drawback had nothing to do with the restaurant, and everything to do with our planning, which meant that the next stop was a distance away for a quick pint at the Crystal Palace, a Wetherspoon's venue, for the leaving party for two of the Welfare Rights team in the section next to us, thence onward via taxi to stop number two, for the leaving parties of two further colleagues in Yate's. We probably spent as much time travelling between venues, eating into valuable drinking time but nonetheless I knew as soon as we entered the place it was my idea of hell. Hordes of drunken pubescents, pounding Kylie at earsplitting volumes and ......well the good bits were the company, bumped into a number of people I haven't seen for a while, and the service was very fast as well. Oh how we laughed and took photos as the boss's boss was dragged to the dancefloor. The all to soon it was time to head for the train. Working in Glasgow and living quite far out of it means that I always have to leave quite early, however sometimes I think that's probably a good thing. Waking up as I did hangover free.

An interesting point re the above is the number of leaving parties all happening at once. Okay, 2 of those are internal promotions the other two are losses to our department, in one case a wealth of irreplaceable experience gone just like that, with more to follow. I'm beginning to wonder if the ship is possibly sinking.

posted by timesnewroman at 6:04 PM  

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