Christmas dos can be dire affairs.
Mediocre food, boring company, a disappointing secret Santa ( don't go there John)
I've done them all.
Last night I drove for over an hour into England to go to the Christmas do of the Prof's Western Campus staff .
Now we're sat at a table which included two much younger gay married couples and so after a few bottles of Prosecco you can imagine that there were much shaking of 30 inch hips.
I've told you before that the Prof is a talented dancer and so in these kind of situations he would shake his booty with the best of them but without the safety net of a gin and tonic and not knowing anyone I managed to hide away with the other wall flowers and chatted about holidays.
At one point the husband of one of the academics bounced over during a particularly energetic rendition of the Weather Girls it's raining men in a kind effort to drag me up onto the dance floor
He looked shocked when I informed him that I couldn't dance with an overly surprised expression that said
But ALL GAY MEN CAN DANCE!!!!!!!
Sadly , not this one baby!
Having said this, they were all such a nice bunch that I thought next year we would go on the arranged bus rather than drive. After a couple of gin and bitter lemons, and as long as they had a bit Abba playing. I'd be up with the best of them!
And boy would that do the Prof's credibility any good at all? Hey ho!