After feeling a little crud all day, Rich announced that there was going to be a nice all paid for meal on the company to entertain the nice Americans that have come over to do some outsourcing work. At around 3pm, I said to Rich I was feeling so crud, and tired that I was gonna skip, have an early night and stay away from booze. Rich of course was a bit miffed at this and give me a sarcastic hard time to see if I would change my mind, and of course I did - mainly due to the fact I had another stressful day at work and needed to get out for a while.
We met in the Lounge where Rich continued to look his noneself, and after coughing and spluttering a number of times, he said he was going to skip the food. Just at the same time this was made public, Captain John O (Mad Irish Dude) and Ship Ahoy Blunty turned up, at which point I think Rich knew he needed a could of medicinal Stellas to recover. Rich kindly give me access to his AMEX card incase he didn't make it down to the Chinese gaff - assuming he wanted me to sign on his behalf.
So, like back at school, and in some sham of a crocodile line, 10 of us waddled down the streets of Leamington Spa to the emperor's Restaurant. Under the orders of Rich, "get set meals, some wine and drinks - no champers, no piss take, but make sure they have a good time" and by the time I get to the bar and just about to take the first sip of my Tiger beer (thanks Bob) I get asked to navigate one of our colleagues who was lost in down, driving around and confused. Stress was already rising to a lovely high level by this point, but managed it - basing directions on public houses, shops and a fire station - so eventually we all seat, apart from Fursal, "his missus" and Captain Cold Rich. Fursal turns up with someone who is deffo not his bird, turns out its one of his mates - but she was stunning, and very nice to talk too. At this point, I decided (after 2 glasses of white wine, some Chinese beer and that bottle of tiger) to send Rich a text message with a photo of his amex card dunked into a glass of wine. I don't think he found this funny at all, and probably prompted him to drink his pint and slowly walk down. The food was very nice, we did have a laugh (mainly at Bob now drinking none-alcoholic lager) and entertained the American delegate. Champers was brought up, but I was well behaved (liking a couple of sips myself once in a while
) and said if they wanted champers, they would have to call Rich - and I knew he would say no anyhow.
After the meal, we pop over to the Jug where I bought a 25 quid round - only two people said thanks, which annoyed me - none of these people were the Americans, which started to wind me up even more than I was stressed at this point. We gave the Americans the option of drinking for a longer period of time (aka The Well) or taking in the culture of Clubbing in Leamington Spa (aka Mirage or Rios) of which, the selected The Well. Of course, the Americans "were getting tired" and shammed off to their swanky hotel, and left the Brits to continue to destress from the American attitude (only to have nipples tweaked by the American bird in the process). Everyone else got kicked out at god knows when, and we were then supplied with Diplomatic immunity and able to stay til again, god knows when. Although I did have the opportunity to help bottle up and become Stefan Warburton - Pub Landlord for 15 mins, bar'ing Rich, much to his disgust.
Stumbled home - talked to Rich about rubbish til 3ish in the street - entered Coma