We always say it, but we always end up going back to booze, like we go back to the slightly mad lover who gives us great sex but then beats us up with a large frozen sausage....
I went out with some chaps from work last night, to a very nice bar called Scarlett's, situated in the promenade at the bottom of the Emirates Towers.
(There wasn't actually any fog when I went, but I like the pic)
(And it was dark)
So....I arrived quite early (the WIFE wanted to get home and get the SPROGS to bed) and stood at the bar for about half an hour, drinking a leisurely pint of Guinness and eating the nasty cheesy nuts provided for me by the bar staff. I watched people come and go. People watching can be quite interesting in Dubai - you see people of every nationality, dressed in so many different ways, speaking many different languages. And of course, you imagine what they do and what they are like. Anyone earing a sharp suit and flashing around their blackberry is immediately labelled a complete fucking poser, any group of giggling females are probably trolley dolleys, and any single bloke is a desperate loner. Oh, yeah...I arrived alone, didn't I?
Then my boss turned up, and said Hello to me and the guy stood right behind me, who happened to be from my company, but site-based. He had actually been there when I arrived, and we had stood there at the bar in complete ignorance and silence for 30 minutes. There's some kind of quantum mechanical phenomenon that could describe this situation. Or maybe there isn't.
Anyway, they all started piling in, the boss had his credit card prised from his cold, dead hands, and the tab was up and running. Guinness followed Guinness. I started to lose count. I got talking to the other new guys who have been joining the company in their droves recently. I felt like an old hand with over 2 months under my belt when I talked to the chap who arrived last week. "Oh, yeah," I said, "Dubai this, Doha that...price of formwork - terrible inflation...bibble....really dodgy bars in Bur Dubai....bobble...have you been to Ski Dubai? Yadda yadda..."
After pint 4 or 5 I had an orange juice to pace myself and to prevent what could turn into a next-day Atrial Fibrilation episode if I wasn't careful. The quizzical looks came my way, along with the comical and the condescending. Can't handle your drink, eh? So the next OJ had some vodka in it. Call me an easily-lead weak-minded fool. Obi-Wan would have a field day with me. These aren't the Quantities you're looking for....
Then I had 2 Coronas, not coronarys, and a few snacks ordered in a moment of the munchies. Then I was too drunk and too tired to carry on, but sober enough to know that I should make my way home. So I said my goodbyes, shook everyone's hand, and got a taxi home.
This morning was bad. Two important meetings. Lots of concentration required. The traffic lights failed at the Trade Centre roundabout just as I was approaching them on the way to meeting number one. The client Project Manager went a bit beserk over some of my figures at meeting number two. It was a looooooong old day. So now I'm off to bed.