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1 hour ago, thistledo said:

I was chatting to a guy I used to work with yesterday, the subject of past work nights out came up and one in particular that's quite funny to look back on now, so thought I’d share. Apologies for the length, it's been a slow day, stick with it though.

I lived and worked in Edinburgh city, sharing a flat with the missus, her brother and his girlfriend at Haymarket. It was during the Fringe, we all decided to go out, watch a few shows and probably get right on it. Everyone else had a day off (b*****ds) except me as work was busy, so after taking in a circus show I suggested it was in everyone's best interests that a scran should be had, before continuing. We bumped into a couple of lads I worked with in the pub, both working away from home, a large chap from Northern Ireland (Chris) who also liked a drink and a quieter chap from Kent (who I'll refer to as such) in his early 50's who no doubt was enjoying his freedom away from the wife. We had all the intentions of getting back out to take in what the Fringe had to offer, but it was one of those situations where everyone was just having a good time, sharing stories and we ended up carrying on drinking in this pub for many hours. 

Things started to take a turn as the tales of nights out grew wilder and Kent proclaimed he'd never been to the strippers before, leading to her brother insisting we should all go. At this point there was a certain level of concern growing for me for the following reasons. I worked for a well-known finance company with lots contractors, some of them I loosely managed and we drank quite often during the week. It got to the point recently, that the contractors in my team were calling in sick after nights out, my boss would always ask me what happened as he knew I'd be there, he never blamed me but I got the feeling he wanted to say something, although it wasn’t like him to hold back. The other reason is her brother is more or less unstoppable in terms of his ability to consume alcohol/substances, we've turned a few drinks into many days on more occasions than I can remember and I feared for Kent. 

Anyway, off we went to the ATMs, transferring money around and making withdrawals. The ladies rightfully and sensibly long since departed and me wishing I'd done the same, I'm essentially now a chaperone. Northern Irish Chris was my long-term drinking partner while we worked together, had been out with me and her brother a few times, knowing the recent events, we more or less simultaneously turned and said “I've got a really bad feeling about this." Then off we went. We headed for the Western Bar (I know, I know) for those who've never been it's about the worst choice of three on the triangle. It was all a good laugh though, as Kent's night had now become dances from rather large girls interspersed with shots of tequila and jaeger. He was loving it. Chris sensibly called it a night and things began to get hazy for me. I lost the other two, despite several phone calls I gave up, assumed all would be well, grabbed a takeaway and headed home. 

The next morning, I woke, her brother was in the flat, had all the lights on and was talking loudly to himself, still drunk at the very least. I had messages on my phone from Kent, advising that her brother was "crazy" and "he loved him", also accompanied by some blurry photos with some... women. Probably still drunk as well, I readied myself and ventured to the office. Chris was there, we had a laugh about last night and discussed a potential lunch time curer. Usually everyone was in around 9am, but no sign of Kent. I gave it 30 minutes and messaged him, which was not even delivered on WhatsApp. Great. Multiple enquiries from the boss, including if we were out last night, multiple failed attempts to reach his mobile had resulted in a lunchtime trip to his accommodation for me to see if I could rouse him. No answer, nothing. Genuinely starting to get worried now and the boss seemed anxious as well. One of the senior guys then told me, something similar to this happened before to the boss and the person had actually died! If I needed anything to increase my fear, this was it. I was frantically messaging her brother asking what happened to Kent, but he had no idea. By the afternoon a decision was made to use the emergency contact (his wife) to let her know her husband hadn't arrived at work and we couldn't reach him. She was incredibly worried and all day long I had people asking me what happened to Kent last night. Work day ends, Chris, her brother and I go to the pub to try and piece things together. Her bro indicates he left the last place they were in, tried to get Kent to leave, gave up and that was it really. Back at the flat later I have one last attempt to call Kent, which fails and I try to get some sleep. 

Next day I wake, try Kent's phone; still no answer, worry more and walk up to the office. I walk in and there he is, this fucking big idiot is sitting at his desk as if nothing happened, still wearing the same clothes he had on that night. Unreal. I said I think we might need a chat, he smelled like a pub carpet and had multiple booze stains on him. I was like "mate, where the f**k have you been and your wife is probably going to kill you, also, you'll be lucky to still have a job. Also please leave me out of your explanation." He just laughed and said he'd sort it out. At that point, I couldn't really see the funny side as people were genuinely worried for him and advised he may owe some people an explanation. He asked for a charger as his was broken, shortly after the phone powered on it was blowing up, ringing non-stop, he just chuckled and ignored it. His nonchalance for someone that was missing and uncontactable for a day with people fearing the worst was astounding.

So anyway, after a stern discussion from the boss, he continued to work for the company. His wife came up with him to Edinburgh the following week, I guess to take on the chaperone role. A month later he told me he'd resigned and was leaving that day. I found out years later from the boss that he'd actually sacked him and just let him tell people he left, he still asks me what really happened that night. I have never to this day found out the real story of what happened and Kent has never told me either, but her brothers’ recollections of the night improved to surmise he potentially went home with a sex worker. Perhaps had a really nice time.

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1 hour ago, thistledo said:

 

Anyway, off we went to the ATMs, transferring money around and making withdrawals. The ladies rightfully and sensibly long since departed and me wishing I'd done the same, I'm essentially now a chaperone. Northern Irish Chris was my long-term drinking partner while we worked together, had been out with me and her brother a few times, knowing the recent events, we more or less simultaneously turned and said “I've got a really bad feeling about this." Then off we went. We headed for the Western Bar (I know, I know) for those who've never been it's about the worst choice of three on the triangle. It was all a good laugh though, as Kent's night had now become dances from rather large girls interspersed with shots of tequila and jaeger. He was loving it. Chris sensibly called it a night and things began to get hazy for me. I lost the other two, despite several phone calls I gave up, assumed all would be well, grabbed a takeaway and headed home. 

 

2-0 the strippers?

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I was chatting to a guy I used to work with yesterday, the subject of past work nights out came up and one in particular that's quite funny to look back on now, so thought I’d share. Apologies for the length, it's been a slow day, stick with it though.
I lived and worked in Edinburgh city, sharing a flat with the missus, her brother and his girlfriend at Haymarket. It was during the Fringe, we all decided to go out, watch a few shows and probably get right on it. Everyone else had a day off (b*****ds) except me as work was busy, so after taking in a circus show I suggested it was in everyone's best interests that a scran should be had, before continuing. We bumped into a couple of lads I worked with in the pub, both working away from home, a large chap from Northern Ireland (Chris) who also liked a drink and a quieter chap from Kent (who I'll refer to as such) in his early 50's who no doubt was enjoying his freedom away from the wife. We had all the intentions of getting back out to take in what the Fringe had to offer, but it was one of those situations where everyone was just having a good time, sharing stories and we ended up carrying on drinking in this pub for many hours. 
Things started to take a turn as the tales of nights out grew wilder and Kent proclaimed he'd never been to the strippers before, leading to her brother insisting we should all go. At this point there was a certain level of concern growing for me for the following reasons. I worked for a well-known finance company with lots contractors, some of them I loosely managed and we drank quite often during the week. It got to the point recently, that the contractors in my team were calling in sick after nights out, my boss would always ask me what happened as he knew I'd be there, he never blamed me but I got the feeling he wanted to say something, although it wasn’t like him to hold back. The other reason is her brother is more or less unstoppable in terms of his ability to consume alcohol/substances, we've turned a few drinks into many days on more occasions than I can remember and I feared for Kent. 
Anyway, off we went to the ATMs, transferring money around and making withdrawals. The ladies rightfully and sensibly long since departed and me wishing I'd done the same, I'm essentially now a chaperone. Northern Irish Chris was my long-term drinking partner while we worked together, had been out with me and her brother a few times, knowing the recent events, we more or less simultaneously turned and said “I've got a really bad feeling about this." Then off we went. We headed for the Western Bar (I know, I know) for those who've never been it's about the worst choice of three on the triangle. It was all a good laugh though, as Kent's night had now become dances from rather large girls interspersed with shots of tequila and jaeger. He was loving it. Chris sensibly called it a night and things began to get hazy for me. I lost the other two, despite several phone calls I gave up, assumed all would be well, grabbed a takeaway and headed home. 
The next morning, I woke, her brother was in the flat, had all the lights on and was talking loudly to himself, still drunk at the very least. I had messages on my phone from Kent, advising that her brother was "crazy" and "he loved him", also accompanied by some blurry photos with some... women. Probably still drunk as well, I readied myself and ventured to the office. Chris was there, we had a laugh about last night and discussed a potential lunch time curer. Usually everyone was in around 9am, but no sign of Kent. I gave it 30 minutes and messaged him, which was not even delivered on WhatsApp. Great. Multiple enquiries from the boss, including if we were out last night, multiple failed attempts to reach his mobile had resulted in a lunchtime trip to his accommodation for me to see if I could rouse him. No answer, nothing. Genuinely starting to get worried now and the boss seemed anxious as well. One of the senior guys then told me, something similar to this happened before to the boss and the person had actually died! If I needed anything to increase my fear, this was it. I was frantically messaging her brother asking what happened to Kent, but he had no idea. By the afternoon a decision was made to use the emergency contact (his wife) to let her know her husband hadn't arrived at work and we couldn't reach him. She was incredibly worried and all day long I had people asking me what happened to Kent last night. Work day ends, Chris, her brother and I go to the pub to try and piece things together. Her bro indicates he left the last place they were in, tried to get Kent to leave, gave up and that was it really. Back at the flat later I have one last attempt to call Kent, which fails and I try to get some sleep. 
Next day I wake, try Kent's phone; still no answer, worry more and walk up to the office. I walk in and there he is, this fucking big idiot is sitting at his desk as if nothing happened, still wearing the same clothes he had on that night. Unreal. I said I think we might need a chat, he smelled like a pub carpet and had multiple booze stains on him. I was like "mate, where the f**k have you been and your wife is probably going to kill you, also, you'll be lucky to still have a job. Also please leave me out of your explanation." He just laughed and said he'd sort it out. At that point, I couldn't really see the funny side as people were genuinely worried for him and advised he may owe some people an explanation. He asked for a charger as his was broken, shortly after the phone powered on it was blowing up, ringing non-stop, he just chuckled and ignored it. His nonchalance for someone that was missing and uncontactable for a day with people fearing the worst was astounding.
So anyway, after a stern discussion from the boss, he continued to work for the company. His wife came up with him to Edinburgh the following week, I guess to take on the chaperone role. A month later he told me he'd resigned and was leaving that day. I found out years later from the boss that he'd actually sacked him and just let him tell people he left, he still asks me what really happened that night. I have never to this day found out the real story of what happened and Kent has never told me either, but her brothers’ recollections of the night improved to surmise he potentially went home with a sex worker. Perhaps had a really nice time.
Wish my work was that interesting [emoji23]

Must be something more or previous maybe? Sounds like a harsh sacking otherwise.
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On 22/08/2021 at 08:14, V.Aye.R said:

Wish my work was that interesting emoji23.png

Must be something more or previous maybe? Sounds like a harsh sacking otherwise.

Was an interesting couple of days right enough, I'm actually so glad I work from home now as I'd rather not be involved in this sort of stuff and the drinking culture in finance companies is really quite bad. Yeah there was another incident of drinking during a lunch hour, which wasn't actually against company policy but when you do it outside and the head of the dept. walks past it usually doesn't go down well. 

Think a lot was down to his attitude on the day he returned though, absolutely blasé about the whole thing. 

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17 minutes ago, thistledo said:

Was an interesting couple of days right enough, I'm actually so glad I work from home now as I'd rather not be involved in this sort of stuff and the drinking culture in finance companies is really quite bad. Yeah there was another incident of drinking during a lunch hour, which wasn't actually against company policy but when you do it outside and the head of the dept. walks past it usually doesn't go down well. 

Think a lot was down to his attitude on the day he returned though, absolutely blasé about the whole thing. 

I bet there's tonnes of office romances/quickies in the stationary cupboard at that type of work environment

Some 19 year old filing clerk getting caught flinging one up the married head of HR by the cleaner after hours.  Glorious.

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Was an interesting couple of days right enough, I'm actually so glad I work from home now as I'd rather not be involved in this sort of stuff and the drinking culture in finance companies is really quite bad. Yeah there was another incident of drinking during a lunch hour, which wasn't actually against company policy but when you do it outside and the head of the dept. walks past it usually doesn't go down well. 
Think a lot was down to his attitude on the day he returned though, absolutely blasé about the whole thing. 
Aye, giving zero fvcks probably wouldn't have helped him [emoji23]

Its a grey area nowadays. Canny see many folk going for a pint at lunchtime these days, saying that from an office workers perspective.

Technically 1 pint is probably borderline depending on who uptight bosses are.
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7 minutes ago, TheScarf said:

I bet there's tonnes of office romances/quickies in the stationary cupboard at that type of work environment

Some 19 year old filing clerk getting caught flinging one up the married head of HR by the cleaner after hours.  Glorious.

I'd imagine 9hrs a day, sat in front of  a computer in the same room, day in day out, week after week after week that even Nigel from accounts would seem like a thrilling escape from reality. 

f**k being an office drone, it sounds utterly soul crushing.

Edited by HeWhoWalksBehindTheRows
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9 minutes ago, TheScarf said:

I bet there's tonnes of office romances/quickies in the stationary cupboard at that type of work environment

Some 19 year old filing clerk getting caught flinging one up the married head of HR by the cleaner after hours.  Glorious.

Happened at school - our married Computing Studies teacher, Mr Donoghue, was caught au cupboard with the younger, sexier Computing Studies teacher.  For us teenage boys, it made him a proper legend. Probably not so much with his missus. 

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I worked as a scaffolding labourer for a few months and would often get hired out to other scaffolding companies when they were short of bodies. 

On one such occasion I joined the crew on their usual Friday liquid lunch, not realising that this meant all alcohol, no food. It was genuinely horrifying going back to site pished and erecting scaffolding from 20m up. No idea why these guys would regularly do that to themselves.  

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When I was a PhD student, we went to cities around Europe. The EU were paying for these jaunts to Prague, Copenhagen, Paris and many more. A new city every 6 months. My favourite was Ljubljana. Our group was well known for our drinking. At one conference a professor from Sheffield came over to us and said "it's just water into sawdust with you guys, isn't it?". 

But away from the conference/drink/dinner/drink jaunts around Europe we often worked at a big lab in Grenoble, France. The ESRF, where we carried out our SAXS/WAXS and XRF experiments. We operated this multi-million pound machine regularly whilst half cut. And my boss heard a rumour, late one night, that a beamline near us had a magnum of champagne in it's mini fridge. Along we went and sure enough it was locked with a keypad. My boss - a smart guy, as Trump would say - looked at which numbers were worn and which weren't. After a few tried the door clicked open and we had our magnum. 

He felt bad and replaced it with an apology the next morning. Our own beamline was an utter disgrace, wine and beer bottles everywhere, crisp packets, bins overflowing. Happy days.

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1 minute ago, scottsdad said:

When I was a PhD student, we went to cities around Europe. The EU were paying for these jaunts to Prague, Copenhagen, Paris and many more. A new city every 6 months. My favourite was Ljubljana. Our group was well known for our drinking. At one conference a professor from Sheffield came over to us and said "it's just water into sawdust with you guys, isn't it?". 

 

Ci2lHxLWkAEi7dn.jpeg

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1 hour ago, TheScarf said:

I bet there's tonnes of office romances/quickies in the stationary cupboard at that type of work environment

Some 19 year old filing clerk getting caught flinging one up the married head of HR by the cleaner after hours.  Glorious.

Aye there was also a bit of that. The girl I mentioned from previous posts used to send me screenshots of messages she got from guys in the work place. Absolutely horrendous / cringeworthy stuff I don't even want to repeat. 

1 hour ago, V.Aye.R said:

Aye, giving zero fvcks probably wouldn't have helped him emoji23.png

Its a grey area nowadays. Canny see many folk going for a pint at lunchtime these days, saying that from an office workers perspective.

Technically 1 pint is probably borderline depending on who uptight bosses are.

For me it was a personal two pint limit at lunch. I worked down in London at various times and it was even worse, people tanning 6 pints at lunch and heading back to the office. If I had 6 pints in a little over an hour I'd defo have a noticeable buzz on and probably verging on feeling like shite come 5pm. 

Some bosses are absolutely sound with it, worked at another company, the boss would come out and sink 2 or 3 with the rest of us like it was no big deal. Seemed like he could handle a drink though and he was, to be fair, one of the best bosses I've ever had. 

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8 minutes ago, scottsdad said:

When I was a PhD student, we went to cities around Europe. The EU were paying for these jaunts to Prague, Copenhagen, Paris and many more. A new city every 6 months. My favourite was Ljubljana. Our group was well known for our drinking. At one conference a professor from Sheffield came over to us and said "it's just water into sawdust with you guys, isn't it?". 

But away from the conference/drink/dinner/drink jaunts around Europe we often worked at a big lab in Grenoble, France. The ESRF, where we carried out our SAXS/WAXS and XRF experiments. We operated this multi-million pound machine regularly whilst half cut. And my boss heard a rumour, late one night, that a beamline near us had a magnum of champagne in it's mini fridge. Along we went and sure enough it was locked with a keypad. My boss - a smart guy, as Trump would say - looked at which numbers were worn and which weren't. After a few tried the door clicked open and we had our magnum. 

He felt bad and replaced it with an apology the next morning. Our own beamline was an utter disgrace, wine and beer bottles everywhere, crisp packets, bins overflowing. Happy days.

So you had SAXS and WAXS. Were there no CRAXS experiments?

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And my boss heard a rumour, late one night, that a beamline near us had a magnum of champagne in it's mini fridge. Along we went and sure enough it was locked with a keypad. My boss - a smart guy, as Trump would say - looked at which numbers were worn and which weren't. After a few tried the door clicked open and we had our magnum. 
He felt bad and replaced it with an apology the next morning.


Screenshot_20210823_114659.jpg
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3 hours ago, scottsdad said:

Happened at school - our married Computing Studies teacher, Mr Donoghue, was caught au cupboard with the younger, sexier Computing Studies teacher.  For us teenage boys, it made him a proper legend. Probably not so much with his missus. 

The (married) head of the English dept at my school had to leave on account of pumping one of the other English teachers and a couple of 6th year girls. Not all at the same time, I'm afraid. 

 

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3 hours ago, HeWhoWalksBehindTheRows said:

I'd imagine 9hrs a day, sat in front of  a computer in the same room, day in day out, week after week after week that even Nigel from accounts would seem like a thrilling escape from reality. 

f**k being an office drone, it sounds utterly soul crushing.

I don't understand why people think sitting behind a computer in an office is any more soul crushing than stacking shelves at Asda or some other boring, menial task. The majority of jobs involve you going to the same place every day, meeting the same people and doing the same task. How many jobs give you a change of scenery every day, a new task to do that you've not done before and new people to meet who aren't just your usual boring c***s that you meet in every day life? 

I don't like my office job but I'm under no illusion that I'd feel the same in about 90% of the jobs I could go for. 

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31 minutes ago, The Moonster said:

I don't understand why people think sitting behind a computer in an office is any more soul crushing than stacking shelves at Asda or some other boring, menial task. The majority of jobs involve you going to the same place every day, meeting the same people and doing the same task. How many jobs give you a change of scenery every day, a new task to do that you've not done before and new people to meet who aren't just your usual boring c***s that you meet in every day life? 

I don't like my office job but I'm under no illusion that I'd feel the same in about 90% of the jobs I could go for. 

I had a job in the summer of 1999 as a door to door salesman, selling gas and electricity contracts on behalf of Scottish power. We'd hit a new town every week, meet lots of new and interesting people. And it was the worst job I ever had. 

Plus, the old hands who were training me were full of stories that ended up with them chapping on the door of a lonely housewife, pumping her, getting a home cooked meal (in one case being given a suitcase of her husband's shirts) and moving on to the next. That never happened with me. 

Spoiler

1616153820MHA_1.jpg

 

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1 hour ago, The Moonster said:

I don't understand why people think sitting behind a computer in an office is any more soul crushing than stacking shelves at Asda or some other boring, menial task.

Probably cause its sat at a computer screen for 9 hours a fucking day I'd imagine. Rather mop floors or flip burgers than that shite tbh.

Edited by HeWhoWalksBehindTheRows
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