Goings on

Well, Gorse Fox is a little shaken by the goings-on at the Christmas Party.



Last night the Gorse Fox attended the Christmas dinner arranged for his colleagues and selected clients. This was the night discussed in a previous post. The restaurant had laid on Christmas crackers and various explosive and incendiary devices. On top of this there were traditional Chritmas dishes such as Lime Pickle, Onion bhajis, lamb rogan josh, pilau rice... and tens of other dishes - all laid out in a buffet for you to help yourself.



The Abbot had chosen well, and the invited throng were split between two tables. Gorse Fox found himself stting opposite the Headmistress and Mother Superior. Some may worry about such a position but not the Gorse Fox, he knew that it would be an interesting evening. Eager to get to the buffet before Boston stirred, our table quickly surrounded the starters and then settled back to munch through a tower of festive poppadums. The first of the incendiary devices detonated and fine foil chaff was catapulted over the table and our starters.



Conversation ranged across many subjects, and very few were treated with any degreee of reverence:

• The Minister (attention span of a butterfly)
• Leather chaps
• BBQ'd meat
  
  
• The Minister (attention span of a butterfly)
• Leather suits
• Shopping
• The Minister (attention span of a butterfly)
• Fashion sense (some of us have it, and others, well you know...)
• Branding
  
  
• The Minister (did GF tell you that he has the attention span of a butterfly)
  
  

The crackers were exchanged. One featured a game that engrossed players for ages trying to get a tiny ball into a welcoming receptacle... another featured a water-pistol which (in the absence of water) was filled with lager. Mentioning no names, the GF was used as a target for said weapon.



At the end of the evening people wandered off, and many congregated in the Cellar Bar. It was at this point that the Gorse Fox took his leave and headed back to the hotel.