Free alcomohol.
First off, I'd like to say I'm so proud of the amount of stories that involve getting pissed for free, or stealing as many pens as possible. I bloody love you guys and girls!

Anyway, this post is about exactly that. Apart from the pen part.

I was at me local Corn Exchange a few months ago, and happily getting right royaly ratted. I was looking quite dapper as I had just come from my cricket presentation. I say dapper, I was in t-shirt, jeans, but had a tie hanging around my neck (woo for my hat-trick hero tie!).
The barmaid obviously thought this was some sort of posh look, and said to me, ''are you with the estate agent group?''. I had no idea what this meant, but what harm can come of being associated with a bunch of well-payed people? Apart from being called an over-payed cunt of course. Anyway, I digress.
''Yes'', I said. ''Yes I bloody am''.
Didn't think much of it, untill when I ordered my drink, she didn't ask for my well-earned* money. You know that face of glee and smug satisfaction that a Leprechaun has while masturbating over a pot of gold? I had that face on all night.

The estate agent boss person had put money behind the bar for all his lil minions! and for that night, I was his little minion bitch, although he didn't know it.

I may dissapoint you all now, as I didn't order bottle after bottle of expensive champagne. Mostly stuck with me cider, with the odd Jagerbomb thrown in to keep my off my toes. Good stuff.

*that fact is not really a fact
Apologise for length? Fuck you, I only apologise to my girlfriend.
( Harold Bishop's Love Child some sort of terrifying sex magician., Wed 14 Nov 2007, 14:02, Reply)