As a temp, I don’t think it’s really possible to resign, you kind of just move from one job to the next, whenever and wherever work is available. After a year at my last job, I like to think that I resigned. So to celebrate a good year working with mostly good people, I had to have the expected ‘leaving drinks’ the first I’ve ever had, working in CT meant having 3 or 4 colleagues, so a ‘leaving drinks’ in CT was like every other night. This is quite strange really, cause as most people know London has nothing else to offer other than good pubs and night clubs so why is it so difficult getting every one out?
Anyways I had mine a week before I left, as my departments redundancy party (they celebrate everything in the UK) was on the following Friday which was to be my last day, so kind of couldn’t have it then. I decided on a local bar/club called Bar38, decent, not too expensive (a big deciding factor) and close enough for everyone to stumble back to the tubes without a problem.
Because I finish work before everyone else, a good thing, but it also means I start way before anyone else too (the joys of office support) I ended up in the pub a good two beers before everyone else. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, I like beer but I’m also a lightweight, the whole alcohol/body mass scale thing doesn’t work in my favour, I’m a 6’2 skinny bastard.
So the rest of the people get there, and as they start rocking up I notice I’m the only guy, this would be a good thing, but every single girl, is either a) married b) engaged or c) just too damn old for me ;) Later on more guys rocked up, so I could have some decent conversation (just kidding ha ha). At about 11 or so the bouncer dude tells us to start finishing up, this of course is after many many beers, a few shots (cowboy something or others), strange girls walking around charging for back massages (just plain weird!) and surprisingly no fights. But after a few drinks, some people are always reluctant to leave their watering hole. Everyone leaves except for 3 of us who are eventually thrown out, literally, but its only 11:30 so theres no way we’re going home, I get dragged to a place called Charlie’s, which I was later told is not a place you tell people you’ve been to, its supposed to be dodgy but I thought it was cool, good music, only one fight but overpriced booze, the only downer.
Of course at this time there aren’t any tubes running, so it’s the wonderful night bus that is to be my chariot home, its either that or 20 pounds for a cab, cheapskate that I am I’d rather take the night bus, my fellow travellers? All drunk, stoned, or tripping. The worst part about getting on a night bus is that you know before you get on, that you’re either going to fall asleep or miss your stop cause you’re not looking out for it, surprise surprise, I miss mine! Get the bus driver to stop in the middle of the road, I jump out run across the road, blurry vision allows me to make out some big red thing coming my way, so hanging onto a pole I flash my lifeline, a green weekly travel card, he stops, I mumble ‘Forest gate? Green street?’ he motions that yes he does understand me and yes he’ll take me there, so I jump on, of course now not moving from his window until he too stops in the middle of nowhere, no bus stops in sight, ‘here, you get off here’ and motions to a sweet little sign that reads ‘green street’ great! Only problem is that this is the wrong side of green street, and it’s a damn long street, so good walking shoes on (if that’s what you call your worn out black leather work shoes) and I’m headed home, less than 30 minutes later and I’m standing in front of my house, nice one, I survived.
