Week 5 - A Very Messy Christmas
Week ending 8/1/6

As proper Christmas kind of fizzled out due us all working, it was decided we should have our official work Christmas dinner on January 4th. I was lucky enough to get some presents that day that Mum had sent out after proper Christmas (thanks Jean and Steve and Aunty Jenny and Uncle Chris, both shirts look good and fit fine.) Anyway Wednesday 4th was chosen because it’s the Chef’s day off (and also most other people’s day off – basically, the guests have to find their own food and entertainment for that day each week.)

We all put our nice Christmas clothes on and were told to also bring an extra personal item ‘for some Christmas fun.’ We all queued up for our Turkey and pigs in blankets and started eating. Once everyone had started eating, Jonny explained what the shot glasses on the table were for. We were going to have a ‘Power Hour’ with red wine. Basically we were all to shoot a shot of Red Wine every minute for an hour and then go out on the town.

The official power hour lasted about 10 minutes as we worked out that it roughly adds up to 2 bottles of red wine in an hour, and Jonny started back-tracking, switching from ‘lets get lashed and have a great Christmas party’ to ‘lets not go silly, make sure you’re in work tomorrow morning.’

Our table carried on the power hour and decided to live with the consequences, and what consequences they turned out to be…

• I realised cross dressing rocks.
• I gained a Jigsaw Memory (of which I still don’t have all the pieces)
• I blagged myself free booze all season in a bar in town
• I broke up with Cath
• I got some seriously worried looks at the kebab place
• I looked fab after being sick
• I had to get independent confirmation of breaking up with Cath
• I probably endangered myself and others while tidying rooms

At some point after dinner, it became time to bring out our extra ‘personal items’ and put them on the person to our left. I brought a condom and couldn’t really put it ‘on’ Vicky next to me, so I left it hanging from her bra strap. Ella to my right, had some eye make-up and started putting it on me. Someone else further up had some red lip stuff and before I knew it, I was going all Eddie Izzard.

At some point after that we retired to the bar where Iain was heroically working while everyone else partied. Some Vodka and Cranberries later and with more people with eyeliner and lipstick on, Pete and I decided to take it the next step and go out in drag.

Strangely, the more we put on, the less anyone else wanted to join us. But it was cool, we were becoming honorary girls, which somehow meant I was allowed to take loads of cleavage shots. (From here on in, it’s all very hazy or not even there in my memory. The majority of what you’re about to hear is made from of glimpses of memory and other people’s testimonies) Anyway, speaking of cleavages, I do remember tons of girls coming up and tastefully testing how good my boobs felt. And being an honorary girl I tastefully took the opportunity to feel theirs in return. And I wasn’t even getting slapped, it was fantastic! I loved being a girl!

A few more drinks later we all went into town, Pete and I getting some odd looks on the bus. We went to the Rodeo Bar, a new bar that opened up a couple of weeks ago and after ordering a drink, I suddenly realised Pete wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and I was getting some really funny looks. Thankfully, by that time, I’d had so much to drink I didn’t really care. I ended up chatting to Paul the manager who’d been told about my poster making ability. So with one of the girl’s crop tops tied in a bow at my chest I stood there and negotiated free booze whenever I go in there in return for making him some posters! Result!

Then at some point later I was in the Saloon bar and I remember something about telling someone about the whole slap-free tit grabbing that cross dressing allowed, and then proving it, much to his disbelief. Then something about Cath being there, and her crying, and then a really sick feeling that we’d just broken up.

Then I was in The Moris and Pete was there, and the sick feeling combined with the booze and the shot I’d just had sent me to the loos. It must have looked really quite strange to the other guy in there to have one guy in drag having just vomited, walking out of the cubicle saying, “I can’t believe we’ve actually broken up”. Then have another guy in drag saying, it’ll be alright, before handing over the next shot of Sambuca and both drinking and leaving….

I think I went somewhere else but by that time the ‘Quantum Leap’ effect had kicked in and like Sam Beckett leaping in to help out, my memory of the whole night is not unlike Swiss cheese.

I do remember going to Tocade, the kebab place on the way home trying to blag a cheaper kebab because I’d just split from my girlfriend. I now realise why the guy was looking at me like I was from mars. Hammered, talking about splitting from girlfriends and wearing now probably drunkenly smeared make-up may have looked un petit peu strange…

Somehow I got home and drunkenly staggered into one of the girls rooms for some make-up remover. My alarm went off a few hours later and even though I’d spent the night murmuring and only half asleep, I woke up and for the briefest second, thought ‘Where am I, oh yes, I’ve got away with it, I feel good. No Hangov…’ At which point the now stirring alcohol crashed through my whole body like a Tsunami of grief and torment all pouring into the sinking feeling that I’d done something very bad last night.

I put my uniform on and was about to head upstairs to start work when my body decided I should make a quick trip to the toilet. An involuntary and unnecessarily violent morning-after-chunder later, I left the bathroom feeling and I assumed looking like a zombie. To my surprise as I looked in the mirror, I looked radiant, my eyes were sparkling, my lips a pleasant ruby. I felt like shit but the remains of that make up meant I looked really quite gorgeous.

One of the first people I saw was Jonny and I explained that I couldn’t remember most of last night, even worse I couldn’t remember if I’d actually split up with Cath, or if we’d just had an argument. I got him to call up his girlfriend in the other hotel and see if she could drop by and drop me into the conversation to see what response it got.

I spent the next few hours on Room Service, trying hard to keep awake and concentrate on tidying the rooms. I probably spent the time pouring toilet duck over the windows before folding the pillows into the toilet. I was a mess.

About 11am, Jonny came up and we had a chat on the stairs in the middle of the hotel. Apparently we had split up. We’ve both agreed I won’t go into the details of why we split up, but I think it had been on the cards for a while. I would’ve like to have split in a mature, grown up way, but then I’m 25. If splitting up 2000 meters up in the Alps while dressed as a woman and being so drunk I can’t remember what happened isn’t the perfect level of maturity for my age… then I don’t know what is. A word of advice though if you’re thinking of doing the same, think ‘Dwarf with Learning Difficulties’ – not big, and certainly not clever. I’m not proud of myself. But sometimes I do allow myself an amused giggle at how absurd life can be sometimes.

Merry Christmas! (again.)

So Nice and Sensible

God Bless edible underwear

The start of the quote is 'The man.'
How True....