musing for fun – caeblogs

[I completely forgot about this story until last night when I was sitting in a pub with some friends and someone reminded me of it. You’ll understand why it was being discussed in an alcohol infused environment when you read it. It was written as part of an exercise titled “King’s Speech”, shortly after the movie came out. Not my finest work but here it is.]

By the age of twenty five most people have a reasonable understanding of what their alcohol tolerance is. Years of daring under-aged drinking followed by equally foolish years of legal age binge drinking would have honed the senses into gauging how many units to consume for drunkenness, flirtatiousness, chattiness or to just about pass as a designated driver. Most people’s livers had conversed with the rest of their organs and agreed how long they thought their owners’ bodies would last. It was a good year for the body to start the sideways shuffle away from the evil liquid as people took stock of how they wanted to proceed in life.

For Beverly King it was at this age that she discovered what her limit was. It was the night of the office Christmas party, historically a night of embarrassing tales and yet one that people never quite envision as the night of their undoing. To be fair to Beverly, it was only her second attendance at one of these dos. She had to bail out of the Christmas party she had been invited to last year because her sister had gone into labour just after the main meal had been served. As her birthing partner, Beverley had no choice but to dash to the hospital to be with her. This year she would finally be able to join in on office gossip ensuing from misdemeanours of the night. She was a little too excited about it all and it didn’t help that some of her colleagues squealed with delight at any mention of the party.

None of the excitement dissipated till the night arrived. The event was being held in the large ballroom of a four star hotel on the outskirts of town, one of the few venues that could hold the three hundred plus crowd. The room was all done up in white fairy lights and a tall glistening tree stood in the corner, soft carols filled the air and alcohol flowed at a disproportionate ratio to the meal that was served. Everything felt perfect, a sure sign that disaster was about to strike yet everyone managed to remain civilised until all the food was consumed. The alcohol began to flow more rapidly and a DJ arrived, promptly swapping the carols for a selection of cringe worthy cheesy tunes. Seats were abandoned as a dance floor emerged amidst the tables and song choruses were shouted at anyone who dared to brave the floor, which was surprisingly most people. It was still all going well until Beverly saw him.

Matthew Conrad from HR. She had been silently obsessing over him for months and now there he stood, drinking a beer and chatting with two of his mates. For once he looked approachable and for once she felt like she had the courage she needed to say something to him. Continue reading →