Leaving

Well it was my leaving do and it was quite an experience. Through good fortune my (please note the possessive) Peruvian was back in the country so she joined me for what was a very moving night.

I was dressed up to the nines in a scrumptious new suit and shirt, but with out a tie so it didn't look like I had made an effort. I was also groomed like a show champion dog in Crufts. To say I looked like a proper fop would be an understatement.

It was very sad saying goodbye to everyone, the girls I knew terribly well, the ones I had only just started to get to know and everything in between. We were a family, in a way that most co-workers aren't. I'd been there for three years, and we had all been through a lot together. I'm going to miss the morning chats and the long afternoons in the pub, I know I'm going to stay in touch with them all but it won't be quite the same.

Strangely, well not that strangely really, the three people I didn't get in with so well weren't there which I think was a bit off. Yes, the evening was just awash with love by the fact they weren't there but it does strike me as bit wrong to not go to someone's leaving do.

The pub closed in the end so we stumbled into a cab and the Peruvian came back to mine to try and teach me Blackjack. She shuffled the deck in a terribly professional way and dealt me my first cards.

In my hand I had the rules for bridge and a joker, which cost me my shirt and one shoe.

Blackjack is complicated.