So I start the job in December. Which means I've got a whole two days holiday before the end of the year.
Which didn't seem much of a hardship until one of the doe-eyed assistants sidled up to me at the watercooler
Her "Got any plans for New Year?"
Me "No, hadn't really thought about it"
H "Great, we're going skiing if you'd like to come"
M "We?"
H "Oh just me and the girls"
The 'girls' being 15 minxes barely out of their teens.
Skiing! I don't do team sports (as you may have surmised). But I do ski. My insouciant style is just the sort of thing to turn a young girl's head as I tweak the nose of terror on some wicked little couloir. Then it would be back to the chalet for a hot-tub full to the brim with young lovelies. Mulled wine, sheepskin rugs, roaring fires, maybe a pillow fight or two. Mmmm................
To be fair she was suggesting Avimore so it's more likely to be huddling round a tepid cup of bovril picking rocks out of the bottom of my X-Scream's. However, during the obligatory 3-day piste closure due to hurricane force gales; that's still me, a case of whiskey, and 15 ladies holed up in the chalet, looking for something to pass the time (strip twister anyone?).
But no, my destiny awaits at BigCo. I made my excuses and left (I think uncontrollable weeping is not a good look in a man).
