Nights Out, Lost Time and Workplace Oddities
A couple of random events/topics that should be discussed have sprung up over a relatively short period of time, and I thought it best to tackle them all in a mega blog.
a) Nights out: I am quite an avid fan of 'nights out', though one wouldn't know it by my recent track records. Since moving to Leeds, M and I have seemingly come to favour Thursday nights at the pub vs. Friday nights at the club. While this is nice, it has made me a bit anxious and a bit unsatisfied. However it seems whenever M and I head for a night on the town in Leeds, things go astray.*
This past Saturday was meant to be a bit of a blow out, as it was both the Aussies and the Scottish lad's big farewell shindig. We all met up at a club that M hates (more than the Pat, not quite sure?) and which I can tolerate but wouldn't choose if I was calling the shots. We drank a fair amount (on top of the pre-drinks) and when 2 AM came we stumbled out onto the street to the afterclub.
Now to get into said afterclub we had to stand in line. Somehow or another, M and I ended up in line, and three random blokes were behind us, and the rest of the group was behind the blokes. We had been standing in line for about 15 minutes and M and I agreed that it was about time to let the three blokes behind us in front of us so that our group could be together. However at this same time, a gaggle of girls came up and tried cutting in front of M and I.
Now this is not something I tolerate. So I told them that they were not going to be able to cut in front of us, and I pointed to them where the end of the line was. They stared at me and then decided to let M and I go first but to cut in behind us. So I told them that this was unacceptable, and that they needed to go to the end of the line. To which they refused.
There was little I could do so I turned my back and made some snide comments to M about the rudeness of said girls. At about the same time a group of lads in front of us were telling the girls that they could cut in line with them if they wanted. The girls were a bit pre-occupied in discussing how they didn't need to listen to 'an American'. Which of course I was waiting for - I mean, it's one of those things that seem to be a pretty common 'insult' when one lives in another country**. So I turned to her and said 'I'm not an American and I'm not so stupid as to think that you're Irish, so learn your fucking accents'. To which she replied, 'well fine then...Canadian. Who cares? At least I'm English'.
Now I found this comment more than a little insulting, as did M. M was seething at this point and he turned to her and said, 'Well I bet she contributes a damn sight more to the economy than you ever will'...This comment (which made me proud of my boy) was followed by a brief moment of silence and then there was the oh-so-popular-and-oh-so-pathetic-retort of 'Well, at least I'm not ugly'...To which M snorted and said something along the lines of 'have you looked in the mirror you fucking slag'.
I also noticed that as soon as the girl blurted out that 'at least she was English', the line seemed to go a bit 'silent'. At this point the lads in front turned their backs on the whole situation and began to ignore the girls. I at this point was feeling a bit low and a bit pathetic. I can only imagine what its like for people who have more than an accent to 'differentiate' themselves from the mainstream...I mean, according to these girls, apparently my accent was cause enough for them to treat me like shit...which is taking it a bit far I realise, but I mean, it was a pretty fucking low blow, though one that happens more often then people would like to realise.
I made a petty comment to M at this point about how 'this is why I have problems with YOUR country' and he responded to me 'Don't you think I'm not embarrassed about this all either?'...we let things go at this point but I am sorry to M about stereo-typing all Brits into that nastiness. Anyways, unfortunately once we got inside the club I didn't see the girls anymore, because i was planning on doing some toe-stepping, drink spilling, drunken falling over dancing on them...but alas it was not to be.
B) Lost Time: I did a double take walking back home on Saturday night. We walked through the train station and I saw the clocks read 5:30. I was shocked that it was that late and then I couldn't figure out where the last hour had gone in the club. Then I remembered that it was time-switching day, and that in effect, somewhere during the night, an hour HAD been lost...though not to booze.
C) Workplace Oddities: Yesterday I was at meeting with an organisation that I do a lot of work with. We were learning a new software for this project we are jointly working on, and it involved going through a few exercises to gain the basic skills. There were about six of us taking the training, and we were all logged on to this one guy's personal work account (on our own separate laptops).
At one point in the training exercise, we needed to insert a picture into the file. Now there was no specific 'picture' to insert, so basically we had to use one of this guy, "Ess'" pictures. Knowing that I myself have a few pictures of questionable work content sitting on my computer (drunken nights out of various friends, etc), I turned to Ess and asked him if there was a folder which we SHOULDN'T look in to grab a picture, or if he knew of a picture we could use with easy access (desktop, etc).
Ess replied that he didn't think he had any pictures saved. So I said, 'oh, ok, well, I'll just go to the 'my pictures' folder and grab one from there' (There's always some shitty default sunset picture in that folder). So I opened up the folder and staring me in the face were about four or five pictures of Myleene Klass in a bikini (or not, with her arms placed strategically). Ess, who was sitting beside me, turned and saw these lovely pictures and turned bright red, saying ' I'm so embarrassed'.
I tried to downplay the whole situation and said something about how we all have embarrassing pictures***, and that I'd use the one of his boss in a meeting (which was also in the folder). A few minutes later, one of the other guys also discovered the Klass pictures, and there were a few admiring sighs. I suppose I should be offended, but being the only chick in the room, I figured it was best to try be as 'manly' about the situation as possible. That being said, I still chose pink for my chapter colour.
Notes:
*A couple of weeks ago at a fabulous gig, M and I somehow became involved in an altercation with a highly strung gay boy and his not so fabulous fruit fly. What made all of it a bit strange was that it began with me tapping the fruit fly on her shoulder and asking her to make way for a random girl who was trying to pass, at which I was attacked by the boy for DARING to place my hands on a pregnant lady...hmmmm...
**(Often times I don't even deny being an American bc I like the fact that people don't even know who they are so offended by)
*** OF course I was thinking of drunken pictures, not semi-porn pictures...clearly I don't think like a guy.
a) Nights out: I am quite an avid fan of 'nights out', though one wouldn't know it by my recent track records. Since moving to Leeds, M and I have seemingly come to favour Thursday nights at the pub vs. Friday nights at the club. While this is nice, it has made me a bit anxious and a bit unsatisfied. However it seems whenever M and I head for a night on the town in Leeds, things go astray.*
This past Saturday was meant to be a bit of a blow out, as it was both the Aussies and the Scottish lad's big farewell shindig. We all met up at a club that M hates (more than the Pat, not quite sure?) and which I can tolerate but wouldn't choose if I was calling the shots. We drank a fair amount (on top of the pre-drinks) and when 2 AM came we stumbled out onto the street to the afterclub.
Now to get into said afterclub we had to stand in line. Somehow or another, M and I ended up in line, and three random blokes were behind us, and the rest of the group was behind the blokes. We had been standing in line for about 15 minutes and M and I agreed that it was about time to let the three blokes behind us in front of us so that our group could be together. However at this same time, a gaggle of girls came up and tried cutting in front of M and I.
Now this is not something I tolerate. So I told them that they were not going to be able to cut in front of us, and I pointed to them where the end of the line was. They stared at me and then decided to let M and I go first but to cut in behind us. So I told them that this was unacceptable, and that they needed to go to the end of the line. To which they refused.
There was little I could do so I turned my back and made some snide comments to M about the rudeness of said girls. At about the same time a group of lads in front of us were telling the girls that they could cut in line with them if they wanted. The girls were a bit pre-occupied in discussing how they didn't need to listen to 'an American'. Which of course I was waiting for - I mean, it's one of those things that seem to be a pretty common 'insult' when one lives in another country**. So I turned to her and said 'I'm not an American and I'm not so stupid as to think that you're Irish, so learn your fucking accents'. To which she replied, 'well fine then...Canadian. Who cares? At least I'm English'.
Now I found this comment more than a little insulting, as did M. M was seething at this point and he turned to her and said, 'Well I bet she contributes a damn sight more to the economy than you ever will'...This comment (which made me proud of my boy) was followed by a brief moment of silence and then there was the oh-so-popular-and-oh-so-pathetic-retort of 'Well, at least I'm not ugly'...To which M snorted and said something along the lines of 'have you looked in the mirror you fucking slag'.
I also noticed that as soon as the girl blurted out that 'at least she was English', the line seemed to go a bit 'silent'. At this point the lads in front turned their backs on the whole situation and began to ignore the girls. I at this point was feeling a bit low and a bit pathetic. I can only imagine what its like for people who have more than an accent to 'differentiate' themselves from the mainstream...I mean, according to these girls, apparently my accent was cause enough for them to treat me like shit...which is taking it a bit far I realise, but I mean, it was a pretty fucking low blow, though one that happens more often then people would like to realise.
I made a petty comment to M at this point about how 'this is why I have problems with YOUR country' and he responded to me 'Don't you think I'm not embarrassed about this all either?'...we let things go at this point but I am sorry to M about stereo-typing all Brits into that nastiness. Anyways, unfortunately once we got inside the club I didn't see the girls anymore, because i was planning on doing some toe-stepping, drink spilling, drunken falling over dancing on them...but alas it was not to be.
B) Lost Time: I did a double take walking back home on Saturday night. We walked through the train station and I saw the clocks read 5:30. I was shocked that it was that late and then I couldn't figure out where the last hour had gone in the club. Then I remembered that it was time-switching day, and that in effect, somewhere during the night, an hour HAD been lost...though not to booze.
C) Workplace Oddities: Yesterday I was at meeting with an organisation that I do a lot of work with. We were learning a new software for this project we are jointly working on, and it involved going through a few exercises to gain the basic skills. There were about six of us taking the training, and we were all logged on to this one guy's personal work account (on our own separate laptops).
At one point in the training exercise, we needed to insert a picture into the file. Now there was no specific 'picture' to insert, so basically we had to use one of this guy, "Ess'" pictures. Knowing that I myself have a few pictures of questionable work content sitting on my computer (drunken nights out of various friends, etc), I turned to Ess and asked him if there was a folder which we SHOULDN'T look in to grab a picture, or if he knew of a picture we could use with easy access (desktop, etc).
Ess replied that he didn't think he had any pictures saved. So I said, 'oh, ok, well, I'll just go to the 'my pictures' folder and grab one from there' (There's always some shitty default sunset picture in that folder). So I opened up the folder and staring me in the face were about four or five pictures of Myleene Klass in a bikini (or not, with her arms placed strategically). Ess, who was sitting beside me, turned and saw these lovely pictures and turned bright red, saying ' I'm so embarrassed'.
I tried to downplay the whole situation and said something about how we all have embarrassing pictures***, and that I'd use the one of his boss in a meeting (which was also in the folder). A few minutes later, one of the other guys also discovered the Klass pictures, and there were a few admiring sighs. I suppose I should be offended, but being the only chick in the room, I figured it was best to try be as 'manly' about the situation as possible. That being said, I still chose pink for my chapter colour.
Notes:
*A couple of weeks ago at a fabulous gig, M and I somehow became involved in an altercation with a highly strung gay boy and his not so fabulous fruit fly. What made all of it a bit strange was that it began with me tapping the fruit fly on her shoulder and asking her to make way for a random girl who was trying to pass, at which I was attacked by the boy for DARING to place my hands on a pregnant lady...hmmmm...
**(Often times I don't even deny being an American bc I like the fact that people don't even know who they are so offended by)
*** OF course I was thinking of drunken pictures, not semi-porn pictures...clearly I don't think like a guy.
Labels: British Living
posted by Lyla @ 3:54 AM
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