Monday, 6 October 2008

Everybody go to Brighton because it's cheap

I was out of the office on Thursday and Friday last week because the company decided to send 40 employees from my floor off to Brighton for a couple of days, all in the name of  that wonderful nugget of goodness: TEAM BUILDING.
Let's ignore the fact that I'm only a temporary member of the 'team', and that worming my arse onto the away day was simply in the interests of, err, filling my stomach with beautiful food, copious amounts of (free) alcohol, and getting a 5* room for the night. No, no, I got so much more out of it: namely a stick of rock and a MASSIVE, all encompassing hangover. On a scale of one to ten; ten being that time I tried to get across London and threw up into my mouth on the Piccadilly line platform, and one being that niggling headache I had at work once, this was a 7 on the hangover Richter scale. The early start meant I woke up still drunk, managed a buffet breakfast and kept it down. However, I pretty much felt like really mucky pants for the rest of the day.
That's ok though, because in addition to learning the names of allllll the people who I have awkward conversation in the kitchen with every day, I also found the one thing bound to make you feel better when your head's thumping, you feel like crap and are lamenting the decision to partake in shots of post-dinner Jager bombs. And that is having the company directors, associates and people generally more senior than you also feeling (and looking) like h'absolute crap; including one bloke who seemed to have a rather black eye following an ambiguous sounding "collision in his room". I think that means he fell over.
Seeing as everyone was in pretty much the same, knackered, queasy, headaching boat, there were no smart arses who did that irritating thing of going 'Oh, do you have a hangover? I FEEL FINE!'. That wouldn't have been a wise sentence with the cold, wet sea in such close proximity. However one bloke got chucked in the sea anyway, fully clothed, which is always amusing to watch. And point. And laugh at. Ha.
Oh yeah - I hadn't been to Brighton before, so was nothing short of amazed that the journey to the coast took less time and money than my daily commute to work. It came in at £6 there and back and took just 55 minutes; up against my £8 whatever, 1-hour-if-you're-lucky trip from NW London to Camden every day. I don't have a lot else to say today, apart from that's mental.
Also, one more highly related thing: if anyone in Melbourne, Australia wants to take me to their annual pig racing and diving (diving! I know!) competition next year, I'd be well up for that. Hmmm.


The Unbearable Banishment said...

I have a deep dread of teambuilding exercises. They never go the way they’re planned. Nobody responds to fabricated “fun.” I don’t mean to sound like a bitter pill but my experience is that at the end of it all, nobody feels any closer together.

Please pardon my American ignorance. What is a stick of rock? Rock candy, perhaps?

Mjohnson said...

Your company sounds cool you jammy byatch! You always work for cool companies, though I don't envey you your pay. Still I get paid and I never go to spar weekends, what's that all about.

cynicalscribble said...

I've spent 10 years in my work and the best the company have done for me is to put me up in a Travelodge for the night - there wasn't even a bar! You lucky sod!

These pigs...that's amazing. Why didn't I think of that? What would be even more amazing would be midgets racing on them as jockeys. The Grand National has had it's day, pigs and midgets are where it's at.

Miss Milk said...

Hey, I went to that pig racing thing last year. Don't worry, you're not missing much.

blueskies2day said...

Hello hello! Team Building always sounds so... CORPORATE, gah! Although it would be wonderful to have free alcohol. Hope you're enjoying your new job :)

rosiewishes. said...

I've just booked tickets to visit a friend in Brighton and, well, you lie; it wasn't cheap! And I have to catch A BUS to get home on Sunday...


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