Gatwick Airport

It was a regular Sunday evening, Louise and I were at my house doing our usual Sunday bake. We made a salmon and boursin (BOURSIN!) pastry thingy for dinner, and an egg custard tart (scrambled egg in some pastry). Now. Step into my time machine and come further back in time to Wednesday morning.

Wednesday was February 29th, which means stock count. Stock count means all our managers were scheduled to come in for the afternoon, which meant that I was duty manager for the morning. Since like, November we've been due a food safety audit, which HAD to happen before the end of February.

This year February had 29 days.

The food audit man had not yet arrived.

I was by myself.

By about ten o'clock my brick shitting was slowing down a little, since he should have arrived by that time. Maybe he wasn't going to come at all.

10:15, I'm starting to rejoice cause I'm off the hook.

10:25, I'm getting on with my day as usual.

10:30,  phone rings. It's reception. "<man's name> is here from <audit company>".

BRICKS WERE SHAT IN LARGE QUANTITIES.

So yeah, I was by myself when the man arrived, sat on top of a pile of freshly laid bricks.
Thankfully Craig arrived about half an hour later to save everyone's bacon.

Fast forward to Saturday morning, Tracey brings me in a lovely bottle of rosé wine to thank me for clearing up the bricks I shat. I mean, for handing the food audit so well.

Back to Sunday evening. So, I had this bottle of rosé, and I shared it with Louise because I am a lovely friend. This whet our appetite, so we moved on to ALL THE OTHER ALCOHOL IN THE HOUSE (apart from that which did not belong to us). We got a bit tiddly, in part by playing Trivial Pursuit, in which we had to drink every time we didn't get an answer right. We got bored of this after we realised that the alcohol was running out, and swiftly decided to go to Brighton.

2am. We've booked tickets to Brighton on the coach. Can barely see straight. Louise takes the bottle of Cava off the shelf while I go pack some things for our day trip, and left a whole fifty pound note on the side for Connie to buy cat food (obviously I thought they deserved something posher than usual =/ ). We stumbled out of the flat and made our way across the parks, where I rudely drunk dialled one of my friends, then tried to start a fight with a man in an orange hoody, purely for the reason that he was wearing an orange hoody. I think I fell over at some point cause my knee hurts.

We made it to the coach station somehow. The coach man nearly didn't let us on the coach cause we were so pissed, but he knew we were secretly harmless, so on we went and slept for HOURS.

Next thing we knew, it was daylight. We felt like shit.

We  were at Gatwick Airport.

GATWICK AIRPORT at 6am.

Yeaaaaaaah. We were supposed to get a connecting coach to Brighton, but were too hungover to even consider getting on a coach ever again, so went to be sick in the toilet instead.

We got the train back, which was an ordeal in itself, since we were basically in London. We had to change at Clapham Junction. It was SO BUSY, we nearly got swept away in the current of all the people!

We arrived back in Southampton at about 9:30, feeling worse for wear, and slept for the rest of the day.


That concludes our amazing adventure.