Last week sophie invited me to her company’s (the balmoral – one of the nicest hotels in Edinburgh) for their end of (beginning of?) year party. It was black tie, which if ya know me, means – BLEAGH! But also, if you know me, it means dress up in various cultural wear ala meera’s toastmaster’s dinner. Being in Scotland this means, KILT-O-RAMA 2005! Let me tell ya, kilts rock. I’m looking to purchase one now, just gotta find a quality one for less than 300 pounds (the going rate). You can get a crap ass one from a souvenir shop for considerably less, but I want a real one that will (1.) last me a long time and (2.) keep me warm in the frigid Scotland weather. Neither will happen with a crappy souvenir one. After a nightmare of getting my sporran (aka men’s purse) attached, I headed to meet up with the group for pre-dinner drinks. I had no cash so I headed to the cashpoint (aka ATM) only to find it out of order. Ran across to the SPAR (aka 7-11) to get cash back. Sadly they require a 2.00 purchase to get cash back, which when you’re in a rush and have no pockets (as everything over 2.00 – equivalent $4.00 - is rather large), is kinda tough to find. Finally I find something – toss it up on the counter, give the guy my bankcard and get a receipt for 2.30. FUCK. I told the dude I needed 40.00. FAWKER. So he grabs the manager, they try to figure out how to re-do the transaction. Five minutes later they decide, no, can’t be done, so I gotta grab another fucking gripp of candy, head out, toss the gelatinized sugar in my flat’s stairwell, flag down a taxi and 10 minutes later (and 25 minutes late) I’m at the pre-drinks get together. We chill there for a while and head over to the hotel. On the way I learn about the one fun problem with kilts – wind. Very Marilyn Monroe.

The dinner had an academy awards theme – they set up a red carpet leading to a champagne reception with a few employees being the press/paparatzi taking photos and asking questions. Very well done and very cool. Eventually we make our way to the dinner. Each department sat together, so I was with the bar staff that sophie works with. We chatted for a while waiting for our food. There is this one dutch guy that works with him, he’s a bit out there, but generally a nice guy. People make fun of him in the same way that people used to make fun of Dylan (for you reno people). I really hate that sort of shit, especially when a lot of people do it. The servers start delivering our salads and he happens to get his first and starts munching on it. This one chick starts waling on him that it is wrong to eat before everyone gets their food. More salads come out and she makes a big deal to make sure that everyone has their food, then dives into hers. Problem is neither sophie nor I have our salads yet. That’s not cool, and I let her know. Sure I’m a bit bitchy to her and give her the eye for a while, but it doesn’t faze her and she continues on to her salad. I find out later that this woman is sophie’s boss. Damn. But as people get more and more tipsy and loose lipped people let me know that “well, yeah, I like working there, but my boss is kind of a bitch.” Muahaha dissention amongst the ranks.

After dinner (which was an excellent mushroom pastry with potatoes and green beans) they held a raffle – the proceeds of which were going to a tsunami victims fund. Normally I wouldn’t enter, but I tossed in 5 pounds for the raffle and ended up winning a personal CD player – much to the chagrin of sophie’s boss. Really, I think she just wanted the excitement of actually winning and getting to walk up in front of everyone rather than the actual prize.

A (bag)pipe band called the ‘red hot chili pipers’ came on and did a great job. Pipers alone are really difficult for me to listen to, but you throw in a decent drummer or two and I’m set. This was followed by the generic wedding/banquet/party DJ which was exactly as you expected until he played a bhangra tune! HOT! I requested another, but he said he only had one. Tragic.

The night went on as you'd expect with many drinks and fun stuff. Made it home at around 2ish, hung up my kilt suit (it was to be returned the next day), crashed and made it to work just fine the next morning! Booyah!