Last Thursday our team had our little christmas lunch thing, and never ever ever have I felt sooooo young…

We went to a place on Chapel Street, as “the bank” a few floors of officespace on Toorak Road. It was quite an entertaining little thing, mostly for the reasons outlined below.

The first hit that made me be both utterly embarassed and laugh a lot was from Bill (a man who, since emigrating from whereever, has only been as far away from home as Albury.) Bill’s a great bloke, and I don’t mean any disrespect, but it just has to be published.

Whilst studying the menu, Bill leans over pointing at some chicken meal and asks, “Hey, what are these two numbers here?” finger jabbing at something along the lines of “15.9/21.5”. I explained to him that that was the prices for the meal. “Oh, I thought that was the fat content of the meal.” *rolls on ceiling laughing* “Why aren’t there trailing zereos on the prices then?”, “Dunno Bill, probably just a fashion thing, put them there in your head.”

Phase beta consisted of Bill asking the waiter if they “still had lemon, lime and bitters as a drink,” because it wasn’t on the menu.

Amongst other things, the other funny piece of material was Bill, and others, being mind-boggled as to how the guy could first remember all our drinks orders, as well as the meals.

“How does he remember all that!” exclaims Zed
“Zed, it’s his job to remember, he’s paid to remember,” I retort.
“Nowhere have I been where the waiter hasn’t needed a pen and paper to write it all down,” retaliates Bill.
“Nowhere have I been, Bill, where they DO need a pen and paper anymore,” says pompous I.

      I already felt quite young amongst this lot, but after this shindig, maaaaaaaan… and I don’t even have any style.