I used to suffer terribly from this self consciousness / second guessing what other people are thinking. Two things I use now: "what other people think (of you) is none of your business" and that people are usually too busy thinking about themselves to worry about you and what you think.
Good way to be (although we all think you’re a twat )
Was in the pub with one of my best mates, who always thought of himself as a bit of a ladies man. This really attractive girl and her boyfriend were sitting opposite us. My mate tells me she keeps on looking at him and smiling flirtingly. I tell him he’s full of crap and instantly want to take the statement back as she gets up and walks over to him with this gorgeous smile. She then says “ I hope you don’t mind me telling you this, (at which point I’m thinking you jammy bastard) but you’ve got two clothes pegs sticking out the shoulders if your shirt. Him crestfallen, me falling around laughing
Remember when I first started working up town as a fresh faced 18 year old and going out on the piss with the older blokes and girls from work round soho on what was probably my first ever real session on the sauce.
Naively trying to keep up and mask my limited boozing experience to misguidedly impress my colleagues I matched the seasoned drinkers pint for pint and whilst even probably only 3 in was suitably smashed after the first hour of supping watered down fosters in this backstreet west end boozer.
Needing a Jimmy I left the table trying to maintain my composure in front of "the lads" but probably staggering about like a new born giraffe on crack I was relieved to get through the toilet door and pitch up at the urinal in the small but empty pub khazi.
Was swaying about but enjoying a blissful drunken piss, considerIng whether it would be a mistake to try it on with one of the office sorts out with us that night when a middle aged bloke came into the toilet and starting using the only other urinal which was very close to mine.
Now being a bright eyed young pup from the suburbs I was relatively conscious of being in a dank pub toilet in soho with my cock out next to a middle age bloke who was quite clearly staring down at it.
He the went "S'cuse me mate" and I thought oh shit here it comes...first night out up west and I'm getting propositioned in a Soho khazi by a 50 year old geezer, so I just ignored him.
But he carried on again "S'cuse me mate!" with a bit more urgency. Again I ignored him and thought happy thoughts knowing I'd leg it when the inevitable proposition came.
Then he said in a bizarrely concerned tone of voice still staring down at the general area of little Rodders "MATE ffs!!!"
I thought I'd confront it so puffing up my chest and putting on my best (completely inauthentic and unconvincing) "I'm a hard nut don't mess with me pal" expression I swung round cock in hand and aggressively spat "WHAT?!!! "
There was silence for a second until the poor bloke , pointing down at my strides said "I was just trying to tell you you're pissing all over your shirt!" and he walked off out of the toilets.
I looked down and saw my white shirt was completely drenched in bright yellow urine and still in full flow continuing to be soaked as if I'd just fallen in the Thames with my jeans and shoes also bearing some of the impromptu self imposed water sports festival I'd decided to unwittingly bestow upon my person.
It was summer so no coat or jumper and what with it being the late 90s it was a long over sized shirt that would not lend well to being tucked in even if I were somehow miraculously manage to dry the sodden garment with the few available paper towels (pre Dyson hand drier days).
Without even acknowedging my work mates I scarpered from the pub with all intentons of copping off with one of the secretaries now being even more of an unrealistic notion than before I had effectively pissed myself through and through like some overgrown toddler on their first day at nursery.
Puked all the way on the train between new cross and Orpington, staggered home and cry wanked myself to sleep putting it all down to experience as you do at that age.
Did eventually pull two of the secretaries at a much later date but I was a wisened man by that stage and had learned that if you want nice things like that it's best not to urinate all over your best "going out" gear in public before the sun has even gone down for the evening.
Remember going to visit a new customer at Shipphams Meat Paste factory in Chichester, the client kindly offered to make me a cup of tea. Sure enough a few minutes later he plonks down two cups in front of me & then remembers he has forgotten his notebook. I picked up the nearest cup while he went off to get his book & taking a mouthful of the drink it must have had about 15 sugars in it - instinctively I spat it out back into his cup & put it back on the table...just as he came back. Before i could say a word he moved my cup nearer me, took a big mouthful of his tea syrup saliva concoction & started talking about the weather...what could I do..
I know this is not awkward behaviour, but it’s train awkwardness related.
Once got told a story by my ex's cousin. She was stunning and always got chatted up on the train to work, she said it was a nightmare.
There was this one chap that stared at her awkwardly every morning, she could see him moving closer each day and he was plucking up the courage gradually.
Well anyway one morning when she arrived at London Bridge he made a beeline for her as she left the station, she knew he was finally going to ask for her number. She had her head down and was walking hurriedly over London bridge, this was the point someone shouted “stop, he’s stealing her purse”. When she turned round this bloke had his hand in her bag, at this point he just legged it and started running past her over the bridge.
What followed was a man rugby tackling this poor lad to the floor to stop him. When the cousin looked in her bag there was a note simply saying “Hi my name is Adam, this is my number ….I would love to take you for a drink sometime”
She changed the train she got to work from that point.
Ha brilliant! Did she ever call you for that drink Ad?
About 18 months ago I went with 2 colleagues and a manager to a client meeting in London Town - This was rare for our company.
Anyway the meeting was going well, these geordies had come down to meet us and lunch time comes around - I am starving having skipped breakfast to be early to the meeting.
Lunch comes out and it's these salty crusty rolls that were delicious but I find I'm nervous about how much I eat in front of them so after eating half a roll I decide that's the polite amount. Everyone keeps smashing through more and more food... just as I decide i'll go back in my manager says 'shall we get back to it?'
I missed my chance... Meeting drags on - I'm now tired as well as hungry I can feel myself fighting an unrelenting sleepiness.
Just as I catch my head dropping I hear someone mention my requirements. As i begin to discuss my parts I think I've saved myself from embarrassment. The meeting wraps up - all is well I think to myself.
The manager (fat bald prick, we'll call him) suggests we go to a pub garden so that I can wake up a bit and get some fresh air - in front of the clients. I go bright red I can feel the heat radiating. They decline and head back to Newcastle.
Anyway we get to the Bunch Of Grapes and I decide I shan't be embarrassed again by the FBP. (My mistake...)
I am going pint for pint with 2 seasoned drinkers in the FBP and the Project Manager. We're about 4 pints of strong cider in and I realise I'm fucked. As I realise this I look to my other Colleague - A test analyst and friend Jimbo - He's not a drinker really and neither am I, he's also pissed, I know it, I know him well. But he's covering it up better than I. I tell them I'm off to the loo and off I toddle trying to look as sober as I can. I go to push the toilet door open 3 or 4 times - It's a farking pull door - I head in.
My head is spinning and I go for a piss somehow not getting any piss on me at all. I decide to sneak into the cubicle to sit down and try and get my head straight... I end up yacking down the loo - What little lunch I did have was now gone. I go back out and get asked 'did you fall down the loo' I laugh it off. I had been yacking for 15 minutes!
I sink my 5th pint of cider and that's it game over I need to go home - that pint hit an empty stomach and I can feel myself wobbling. It's only been about 2 hours since we left the meeting so, it was maybe 5:30 and the pub was now rammed. I make my excuses and go to leave our table - My legs are jelly and I know I am now embarrassing myself.
I stumble all the way to London Bridge - it took maybe 40 minutes to navigate the swirling streets the whole 1/4 mile if that!
I manage to grab a cornish pasty as the pasty shop was the nearest thing to me, but as I eat the last bite, I see some big bloke waving, it was the Head of Development for our client... I shit myself - not literally but I may as well have.
He walks towards me and starts chatting I try to act professional but it's clear I am absolutely cunted. Turns out he's getting the same train as me as he flew down, whilst the others took the train.
As we walk/wobble and talk he says something like 'You guys obviously felt the meeting went well to hit the booze straight after' as I go to respond the pasty and last glass of cider and some stomach lining (for good measure) launch themselves out of mouth and all over his feet and lower legs. He was not even angry. He burst out laughing (Absolute Hero) and I was apologising mid way through yacking the rest onto the tracks.
Cool as anything he says he'll get me to the loos, he'll get changed and then leave me with the toilet to carry me home.
So he does exactly that he helps me into those big toilets with the door you don't trust to not open mid squat. And he says he'll knock at Gatwick.
Did he fuck - the next thing I know the train is terminating in Horsham and I had missed Horley and Gatwick. I ended up having to ring the Mrs because somewhere in the forgotten period of time I had yacked all over myself and no taxi would take me home and the train station staff had ushered me out of the station for my own safety.
Next morning the FBP has told everyone at work, CEO included the story that the Head of Dev for the client had shared and I was taken the piss out of for a couple of days.
Anyway FBP got sacked shortly after for excessive drinking on his lunch breaks, at client meets and pretty much every opportunity - No wonder I couldn't keep up on a near empty stomach!
He even lost us said client (i'm sure me puking on their head of dev had nothing to do with it) which would have lost us hundreds of thousands in business.
That's sadly probably my longest ever post on CL. So I thank others for getting similarly pissed and sharing your stories so I could share mine and not feel so ashamed.
I was never taken to an off site client meet again after that, just in case you were wondering - Just video conferences.
I ended up next to a certain Mr Jackson the other night in a rather cramped urinal, couldn't think of anything to say, and don't usually chat to fellas in that situation..
I ended up next to a certain Mr Jackson the other night in a rather cramped urinal, couldn't think of anything to say, and don't usually chat to fellas in that situation..
Not sure if you saw my post the other day about this happening to me with JJ at the Greenwich pre season but suffice to say you made the right call staying scthum.
About 18 months ago I went with 2 colleagues and a manager to a client meeting in London Town - This was rare for our company.
Anyway the meeting was going well, these geordies had come down to meet us and lunch time comes around - I am starving having skipped breakfast to be early to the meeting.
Lunch comes out and it's these salty crusty rolls that were delicious but I find I'm nervous about how much I eat in front of them so after eating half a roll I decide that's the polite amount. Everyone keeps smashing through more and more food... just as I decide i'll go back in my manager says 'shall we get back to it?'
I missed my chance... Meeting drags on - I'm now tired as well as hungry I can feel myself fighting an unrelenting sleepiness.
Just as I catch my head dropping I hear someone mention my requirements. As i begin to discuss my parts I think I've saved myself from embarrassment. The meeting wraps up - all is well I think to myself.
The manager (fat bald prick, we'll call him) suggests we go to a pub garden so that I can wake up a bit and get some fresh air - in front of the clients. I go bright red I can feel the heat radiating. They decline and head back to Newcastle.
Anyway we get to the Bunch Of Grapes and I decide I shan't be embarrassed again by the FBP. (My mistake...)
I am going pint for pint with 2 seasoned drinkers in the FBP and the Project Manager. We're about 4 pints of strong cider in and I realise I'm fucked. As I realise this I look to my other Colleague - A test analyst and friend Jimbo - He's not a drinker really and neither am I, he's also pissed, I know it, I know him well. But he's covering it up better than I. I tell them I'm off to the loo and off I toddle trying to look as sober as I can. I go to push the toilet door open 3 or 4 times - It's a farking pull door - I head in.
My head is spinning and I go for a piss somehow not getting any piss on me at all. I decide to sneak into the cubicle to sit down and try and get my head straight... I end up yacking down the loo - What little lunch I did have was now gone. I go back out and get asked 'did you fall down the loo' I laugh it off. I had been yacking for 15 minutes!
I sink my 5th pint of cider and that's it game over I need to go home - that pint hit an empty stomach and I can feel myself wobbling. It's only been about 2 hours since we left the meeting so, it was maybe 5:30 and the pub was now rammed. I make my excuses and go to leave our table - My legs are jelly and I know I am now embarrassing myself.
I stumble all the way to London Bridge - it took maybe 40 minutes to navigate the swirling streets the whole 1/4 mile if that!
I manage to grab a cornish pasty as the pasty shop was the nearest thing to me, but as I eat the last bite, I see some big bloke waving, it was the Head of Development for our client... I shit myself - not literally but I may as well have.
He walks towards me and starts chatting I try to act professional but it's clear I am absolutely cunted. Turns out he's getting the same train as me as he flew down, whilst the others took the train.
As we walk/wobble and talk he says something like 'You guys obviously felt the meeting went well to hit the booze straight after' as I go to respond the pasty and last glass of cider and some stomach lining (for good measure) launch themselves out of mouth and all over his feet and lower legs. He was not even angry. He burst out laughing (Absolute Hero) and I was apologising mid way through yacking the rest onto the tracks.
Cool as anything he says he'll get me to the loos, he'll get changed and then leave me with the toilet to carry me home.
So he does exactly that he helps me into those big toilets with the door you don't trust to not open mid squat. And he says he'll knock at Gatwick.
Did he fuck - the next thing I know the train is terminating in Horsham and I had missed Horley and Gatwick. I ended up having to ring the Mrs because somewhere in the forgotten period of time I had yacked all over myself and no taxi would take me home and the train station staff had ushered me out of the station for my own safety.
Next morning the FBP has told everyone at work, CEO included the story that the Head of Dev for the client had shared and I was taken the piss out of for a couple of days.
Anyway FBP got sacked shortly after for excessive drinking on his lunch breaks, at client meets and pretty much every opportunity - No wonder I couldn't keep up on a near empty stomach!
He even lost us said client (i'm sure me puking on their head of dev had nothing to do with it) which would have lost us hundreds of thousands in business.
That's sadly probably my longest ever post on CL. So I thank others for getting similarly pissed and sharing your stories so I could share mine and not feel so ashamed.
I was never taken to an off site client meet again after that, just in case you were wondering - Just video conferences.
I dread to think what you are like let loose on £2.50 pints in Wetherspoons.
Walking school runs are absolute horror shows for seeing the same people (who you don't know) at the same point every day.
Once you've breached 'ignore' up to 'smile' and then 'hello' you have to force yourself to stop there. Because if you surpass it with conversation then you pretty much have to think of a variation one-liner on a daily basis
I ended up next to a certain Mr Jackson the other night in a rather cramped urinal, couldn't think of anything to say, and don't usually chat to fellas in that situation..
You should have asked him if he regretted having all those facelifts.
You go into the bog for a pee and there are 3 urinals.
Which one do you choose? Left/right or middle? There must be a few stories about this.
Anyone who chooses the middle is clearly some sort of pervert and the appropriate authorities ought to be informed.
Thank You! What sort of twat chooses the middle either a) when there's no one in there or b) when one of the end ones is in use and the other two are free.
See the motorway driving thread. That sort of twat.
I ended up next to a certain Mr Jackson the other night in a rather cramped urinal, couldn't think of anything to say, and don't usually chat to fellas in that situation..
About 18 months ago I went with 2 colleagues and a manager to a client meeting in London Town - This was rare for our company.
Anyway the meeting was going well, these geordies had come down to meet us and lunch time comes around - I am starving having skipped breakfast to be early to the meeting.
Lunch comes out and it's these salty crusty rolls that were delicious but I find I'm nervous about how much I eat in front of them so after eating half a roll I decide that's the polite amount. Everyone keeps smashing through more and more food... just as I decide i'll go back in my manager says 'shall we get back to it?'
I missed my chance... Meeting drags on - I'm now tired as well as hungry I can feel myself fighting an unrelenting sleepiness.
Just as I catch my head dropping I hear someone mention my requirements. As i begin to discuss my parts I think I've saved myself from embarrassment. The meeting wraps up - all is well I think to myself.
The manager (fat bald prick, we'll call him) suggests we go to a pub garden so that I can wake up a bit and get some fresh air - in front of the clients. I go bright red I can feel the heat radiating. They decline and head back to Newcastle.
Anyway we get to the Bunch Of Grapes and I decide I shan't be embarrassed again by the FBP. (My mistake...)
I am going pint for pint with 2 seasoned drinkers in the FBP and the Project Manager. We're about 4 pints of strong cider in and I realise I'm fucked. As I realise this I look to my other Colleague - A test analyst and friend Jimbo - He's not a drinker really and neither am I, he's also pissed, I know it, I know him well. But he's covering it up better than I. I tell them I'm off to the loo and off I toddle trying to look as sober as I can. I go to push the toilet door open 3 or 4 times - It's a farking pull door - I head in.
My head is spinning and I go for a piss somehow not getting any piss on me at all. I decide to sneak into the cubicle to sit down and try and get my head straight... I end up yacking down the loo - What little lunch I did have was now gone. I go back out and get asked 'did you fall down the loo' I laugh it off. I had been yacking for 15 minutes!
I sink my 5th pint of cider and that's it game over I need to go home - that pint hit an empty stomach and I can feel myself wobbling. It's only been about 2 hours since we left the meeting so, it was maybe 5:30 and the pub was now rammed. I make my excuses and go to leave our table - My legs are jelly and I know I am now embarrassing myself.
I stumble all the way to London Bridge - it took maybe 40 minutes to navigate the swirling streets the whole 1/4 mile if that!
I manage to grab a cornish pasty as the pasty shop was the nearest thing to me, but as I eat the last bite, I see some big bloke waving, it was the Head of Development for our client... I shit myself - not literally but I may as well have.
He walks towards me and starts chatting I try to act professional but it's clear I am absolutely cunted. Turns out he's getting the same train as me as he flew down, whilst the others took the train.
As we walk/wobble and talk he says something like 'You guys obviously felt the meeting went well to hit the booze straight after' as I go to respond the pasty and last glass of cider and some stomach lining (for good measure) launch themselves out of mouth and all over his feet and lower legs. He was not even angry. He burst out laughing (Absolute Hero) and I was apologising mid way through yacking the rest onto the tracks.
Cool as anything he says he'll get me to the loos, he'll get changed and then leave me with the toilet to carry me home.
So he does exactly that he helps me into those big toilets with the door you don't trust to not open mid squat. And he says he'll knock at Gatwick.
Did he fuck - the next thing I know the train is terminating in Horsham and I had missed Horley and Gatwick. I ended up having to ring the Mrs because somewhere in the forgotten period of time I had yacked all over myself and no taxi would take me home and the train station staff had ushered me out of the station for my own safety.
Next morning the FBP has told everyone at work, CEO included the story that the Head of Dev for the client had shared and I was taken the piss out of for a couple of days.
Anyway FBP got sacked shortly after for excessive drinking on his lunch breaks, at client meets and pretty much every opportunity - No wonder I couldn't keep up on a near empty stomach!
He even lost us said client (i'm sure me puking on their head of dev had nothing to do with it) which would have lost us hundreds of thousands in business.
That's sadly probably my longest ever post on CL. So I thank others for getting similarly pissed and sharing your stories so I could share mine and not feel so ashamed.
I was never taken to an off site client meet again after that, just in case you were wondering - Just video conferences.
I dread to think what you are like let loose on £2.50 pints in Wetherspoons.
Don't worry, I generally don't drink alcohol. I drink maybe a bottle a month of beer, or a few Vodka and OJ's!
Comments
Remember when I first started working up town as a fresh faced 18 year old and going out on the piss with the older blokes and girls from work round soho on what was probably my first ever real session on the sauce.
Naively trying to keep up and mask my limited boozing experience to misguidedly impress my colleagues I matched the seasoned drinkers pint for pint and whilst even probably only 3 in was suitably smashed after the first hour of supping watered down fosters in this backstreet west end boozer.
Needing a Jimmy I left the table trying to maintain my composure in front of "the lads" but probably staggering about like a new born giraffe on crack I was relieved to get through the toilet door and pitch up at the urinal in the small but empty pub khazi.
Was swaying about but enjoying a blissful drunken piss, considerIng whether it would be a mistake to try it on with one of the office sorts out with us that night when a middle aged bloke came into the toilet and starting using the only other urinal which was very close to mine.
Now being a bright eyed young pup from the suburbs I was relatively conscious of being in a dank pub toilet in soho with my cock out next to a middle age bloke who was quite clearly staring down at it.
He the went "S'cuse me mate" and I thought oh shit here it comes...first night out up west and I'm getting propositioned in a Soho khazi by a 50 year old geezer, so I just ignored him.
But he carried on again "S'cuse me mate!" with a bit more urgency. Again I ignored him and thought happy thoughts knowing I'd leg it when the inevitable proposition came.
Then he said in a bizarrely concerned tone of voice still staring down at the general area of little Rodders "MATE ffs!!!"
I thought I'd confront it so puffing up my chest and putting on my best (completely inauthentic and unconvincing) "I'm a hard nut don't mess with me pal" expression I swung round cock in hand and aggressively spat "WHAT?!!! "
There was silence for a second until the poor bloke , pointing down at my strides said "I was just trying to tell you you're pissing all over your shirt!" and he walked off out of the toilets.
I looked down and saw my white shirt was completely drenched in bright yellow urine and still in full flow continuing to be soaked as if I'd just fallen in the Thames with my jeans and shoes also bearing some of the impromptu self imposed water sports festival I'd decided to unwittingly bestow upon my person.
It was summer so no coat or jumper and what with it being the late 90s it was a long over sized shirt that would not lend well to being tucked in even if I were somehow miraculously manage to dry the sodden garment with the few available paper towels (pre Dyson hand drier days).
Without even acknowedging my work mates I scarpered from the pub with all intentons of copping off with one of the secretaries now being even more of an unrealistic notion than before I had effectively pissed myself through and through like some overgrown toddler on their first day at nursery.
Puked all the way on the train between new cross and Orpington, staggered home and cry wanked myself to sleep putting it all down to experience as you do at that age.
Did eventually pull two of the secretaries at a much later date but I was a wisened man by that stage and had learned that if you want nice things like that it's best not to urinate all over your best "going out" gear in public before the sun has even gone down for the evening.
Anyway the meeting was going well, these geordies had come down to meet us and lunch time comes around - I am starving having skipped breakfast to be early to the meeting.
Lunch comes out and it's these salty crusty rolls that were delicious but I find I'm nervous about how much I eat in front of them so after eating half a roll I decide that's the polite amount. Everyone keeps smashing through more and more food... just as I decide i'll go back in my manager says 'shall we get back to it?'
I missed my chance... Meeting drags on - I'm now tired as well as hungry I can feel myself fighting an unrelenting sleepiness.
Just as I catch my head dropping I hear someone mention my requirements. As i begin to discuss my parts I think I've saved myself from embarrassment. The meeting wraps up - all is well I think to myself.
The manager (fat bald prick, we'll call him) suggests we go to a pub garden so that I can wake up a bit and get some fresh air - in front of the clients. I go bright red I can feel the heat radiating. They decline and head back to Newcastle.
Anyway we get to the Bunch Of Grapes and I decide I shan't be embarrassed again by the FBP. (My mistake...)
I am going pint for pint with 2 seasoned drinkers in the FBP and the Project Manager. We're about 4 pints of strong cider in and I realise I'm fucked. As I realise this I look to my other Colleague - A test analyst and friend Jimbo - He's not a drinker really and neither am I, he's also pissed, I know it, I know him well. But he's covering it up better than I. I tell them I'm off to the loo and off I toddle trying to look as sober as I can. I go to push the toilet door open 3 or 4 times - It's a farking pull door - I head in.
My head is spinning and I go for a piss somehow not getting any piss on me at all. I decide to sneak into the cubicle to sit down and try and get my head straight... I end up yacking down the loo - What little lunch I did have was now gone. I go back out and get asked 'did you fall down the loo' I laugh it off. I had been yacking for 15 minutes!
I sink my 5th pint of cider and that's it game over I need to go home - that pint hit an empty stomach and I can feel myself wobbling. It's only been about 2 hours since we left the meeting so, it was maybe 5:30 and the pub was now rammed. I make my excuses and go to leave our table - My legs are jelly and I know I am now embarrassing myself.
I stumble all the way to London Bridge - it took maybe 40 minutes to navigate the swirling streets the whole 1/4 mile if that!
I manage to grab a cornish pasty as the pasty shop was the nearest thing to me, but as I eat the last bite, I see some big bloke waving, it was the Head of Development for our client... I shit myself - not literally but I may as well have.
He walks towards me and starts chatting I try to act professional but it's clear I am absolutely cunted. Turns out he's getting the same train as me as he flew down, whilst the others took the train.
As we walk/wobble and talk he says something like 'You guys obviously felt the meeting went well to hit the booze straight after' as I go to respond the pasty and last glass of cider and some stomach lining (for good measure) launch themselves out of mouth and all over his feet and lower legs. He was not even angry. He burst out laughing (Absolute Hero) and I was apologising mid way through yacking the rest onto the tracks.
Cool as anything he says he'll get me to the loos, he'll get changed and then leave me with the toilet to carry me home.
So he does exactly that he helps me into those big toilets with the door you don't trust to not open mid squat. And he says he'll knock at Gatwick.
Did he fuck - the next thing I know the train is terminating in Horsham and I had missed Horley and Gatwick. I ended up having to ring the Mrs because somewhere in the forgotten period of time I had yacked all over myself and no taxi would take me home and the train station staff had ushered me out of the station for my own safety.
Next morning the FBP has told everyone at work, CEO included the story that the Head of Dev for the client had shared and I was taken the piss out of for a couple of days.
Anyway FBP got sacked shortly after for excessive drinking on his lunch breaks, at client meets and pretty much every opportunity - No wonder I couldn't keep up on a near empty stomach!
He even lost us said client (i'm sure me puking on their head of dev had nothing to do with it) which would have lost us hundreds of thousands in business.
That's sadly probably my longest ever post on CL. So I thank others for getting similarly pissed and sharing your stories so I could share mine and not feel so ashamed.
I was never taken to an off site client meet again after that, just in case you were wondering - Just video conferences.
I didn't and regret it for reasons explained!