Christmas Party, we only do it for the kids! The last few practices before christmases have been cups of juice and sweeties affairs. This year the ladies of the Unelected Social Committee planned a proper party for the weans and there seem to be more and more every week. Pity those with music prelims after the holidays because they are the only ones working.The cups of ‘pop’ and sweeties have been joined by cakes and crisps and addictive cheesy crackers. Jo has the kids playing party games that she appears to have invented herself; 37 kids and 36 bits of paper on the floor and lots of christmas music and laughing.
Back in the other hall all us grown ups are sitting around drinking tea and talking about anyone who isn’t there yet. Mags informs me I have the same christmas jumper on as Mikey, oh the shame, I ask her to double check she doesn’t snog the wrong Santa later. His is noticeably lacking the large cushion at the front that gives it a proper Santa rotundity. Everywhere you look there are gaudy examples of poor taste, Stoo’s has ears. There is a growing crowd around the tub of cheesy crackers, men and women with the pale haunted look of addicts grab handfuls and gulp them down only to return for more. After several hours and innumerable party nibbles it is time to tidy away the chairs and tables and wish the children a happy christmas and a good new year and head over to the Glennie for a refreshment.
We thought the Pipey had brought some homeless guy as a gesture of christmas altruism but closer inspection revealed Big Davey with a beard. The Medic is there sans jumper and a wee party vibe starts to grow as the swally waater is distributed. Richard of the innumerable nicknames (Clock this week) has appeared, no idea how as he can’t drive and nobody saw him arrive. Clark once saw Pipey tying in a chanter stock and decided to use the same technique on his old mans fingers, Rich cuts off the bandages when the fingertips go blue.
Once again the pub spoil us with a selection of pies and burgers and once again the trenchermen of KPB make a sizeable dent in the pile. The cheesy crackers have made the journey from the bandroom and I am sitting drinking beer and mainlining them. No wonder I don’t need a cushion up my jumper. People in bri-nylon christmas jumpers are advised not to brush against the christmas tree as it looks desiccated and a single spark could light it up like a roman candle. I have little idea why we love this pub so much? Let me think; better beer, free pies, few wee fannys and they tolerate us.
You, lucky reader, may never have seen a pipe band in a pub. The debt owed to those who turn up with wheelbarrows and take them home is incalculable, let’s hear it for the designated drivers.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year when it comes.