It is not often that everyone I work with has the chance to socialize together. Most of us work alone and so when the opportunity to get together for the Christmas party comes along, well, the drinking starts early.
So, a nice meal in a restaurant where more food probably ended up on the floor, a rowdy evening in the pub and then too drunk to make any sensible decion about going home meant we ended up doing a spot of dancing in a terrible night club.
2am seemed about the right time to go home because the club was closing and we wanted to be able to get a taxi home.
All went well. We're all still in one piece.
At this point though, it is really not a good idea to partake in some play fighting - as Rob found out.
I thought he was ok because when he is drunk he loses the ability to speak and so couldn't tell me otherwise. Drunk and wobbly on his feet is about right for a night out. So when I got him back to the boat I was disturbed to discover that his shoulder looked a little out of shape.
After calling NHS Direct and telling them I was incapable of moving my husband from the sofa and that there was something very wrong with his shoulder they suggested calling him an ambulance. Considering he was still breathing it wasn't really an emergency that merrited an ambulance I wandered down the pontoon to Smiles where I kicked his boat (sorry Steven, but knocking politely didn't work!) until he woke up and gave us a lift to hospital.
4 hours spent waiting (mainly for Rob to sober up) Rob was told that he has broken his clavical.
The moral of this story is: never go out drinking with an old man who thinks he's young and spritely. His bones are fragile and crumbly.
Rob thinks the moral of the story is never fight with a scouser, especially when you're her boss.
Thank you KP for such wonderful gifts.
