Eep...
Apologies to the one person here who has heard this Tale of Cringe before…

Once upon a time in the land of Berkshire, I worked for a multi-national billion pound corporation. As is befitting of a company of such stature, the Christmas party was a rather posh soirée, complete with nibbles that fall well outside my usual ‘Twiglets and crisps’ range. The champagne was both free and free flowing, and much merriment was to be had at the expense of the bosses. We weren’t just minions for the day, we were royalty!

I went out and maxed my credit card purchasing a exceedingly stunning D&G dress and shoes, got my makeup professionally done and spent a week’s food budget on receiving The Wax of a Lifetime. I borrowed jewels befitting of a queen and had my hair highlighted to golden perfection. My lipstick never faded and my teeth gleamed with smiles. I cut a fine picture of lithe sophistication, charming and being charmed alike.

The last thing I remember was being bundled into a taxi, having been rendered unable to see. I woke up the next morning, passed out half hanging out of my front door, back bum exposed to all and sundry on a crisp December day.

The children and parents from the posh day care across the street had stopped to titter, point and stare at me. So imagine the further cringe when I had to stand to look these strangers in the eye, only to find that I had also emptied a bladder full of champagne all over myself.

Then having to look them in the eyes daily for months afterwards as they mentally recalled the time the saw me with a £800 dress stuck to my skin with urine.

~fin~
(TheSnark oh, c'mon, like you didn't see me coming, Fri 28 Nov 2008, 14:58, Reply)