The Working Lunch

Sometimes it's hard to beat my job for fun. Granted, I did have a stressful morning which included a few minutes where I felt I had completely lost the plot, but a cup of tea and a glazed session of staring at the traffic stopping and starting outside my window sorted out most of the problem. The afternoon had an unpromising meeting scheduled. It started badly (it was that sort of a day) with me not realising the meeting was taking place off site, which explained why the other person hadn't turned up. So, a rather rushed band of us legged it to a local leisure centre to meet a caterer about an event. I hadn't realised this was a tasting session, which involved demonstration plates of food showing off the chef's skills. I felt a pang of guilt about the toasted panini I had already scoffed for lunch, as plate after plate of delicious dinners came out of the kitchen. 'No, no not more' we all cried as some sea bass, potato rosti and spring greens squeezed onto the table next to the stuffed chicken breasts and vegetable parcels. (And this was after some wonderful mushroom soup and warm goat's cheese salad starters). Then, just when we thought we couldn't eat any more, out came the biggest slab of rib-eye steak you could fit on a dinner plate, it was so big, it had to sit on top of the vegetables. As we groaned and clutched our stomachs, the caterer ominously said, 'I hope the bread and butter pudding is on it's way'. Sure enough, out came three different versions of the famous dessert, with chocolate ice cream and fruit. I never, ever drink at work, but the offer of brandy at lunchtime seemed too exotic to be true, so, as it came out despite my remonstrations, I had a little slug to keep me going. It seemed a shame to waste it, and while my back was turned, a colleague thoughtfully poured it into a water bottle, which fitted rather nicely into my handbag.