Like most of you, I work in a Taiwanese office. Most of my colleagues work until 8 or 9; and then they head home. The Friday pub culture, I so liked in England, is absent, and never so glaringly so than on a dreary Friday afternoon such as this one.
I long for the days when my boss, in London, would take me for drinks and a coke at the Beach Blanket Babylon in Sheperd’s Bush.
Now, instead, I’m stuck in a flourescent-lit office.
But that’s enough about me. What would you rather be doing?
Playing Bass in the band again.
Driving my Toyota Celica flat out over the hills and finding a nice off road spot to really play hard.
Surfing.
Playing golf.
Oh man… I miss my life.
Dreaming about the two fat slags I saw in Liverpool pissing on the sidewalk at 2 a.m.
JUST KIDDING!
What a taste in “pubs” you have… :shock:
For those that do not know this place, its done out like someone vomited M&Ms inside a Gothic church.
If I was back home right now… I’d probably be buying a plane ticket.
I’d be asleep because it’s four thirty in the morning. Friday morning.
It’s soon lunchtime there now, so I guess I would look forward to having lunch…
In 4-5 hours, I would start walking home, with a few pit-stops on the outdoor cafees to have a couple of cold beers. Maybe I would make it home before midnight, maybe not - depends on who I meet.
HOTTALA!!!
It was close to our offices and yes you’re right, it’s not exactly a pub, it’s a wine bar, whatever they are. Later though, I’d meet the mates in Convent Garden. Besides, he was always paid and he was a media type in his late forties, my boss that is, but, thank god, he didn’t have a pony tail.
Excuse these reminiscenses. I am tired and fed up with sitting in this chair. Something needs to be done!
Whaddya mean if? I am at home. :? 
I changed the title. I knew there was something wrong with it.
You’re right this IS home.
Ah, in that case I’d be at someone’s cottage, getting ready to go to someone’s cottage, or just coming back from someone’s cottage. Waterskiing, fruit pies, barbecue, lots of friends, lots of Labatt’s, sitting on the dock in the evening, going canoeing, windsurfing, fishing, fixing outboard engines, getting a wicked tan, skinny-dipping at night, trying to keep the raccoons out of the garbage…
I would be sitting in a chair in a cubicle in front of a computer, trying to meet an impossible deadline that was set by a weaseling bastard who was planning to fire me the instant the project was over anyway. And he did.
Incidentally, it’s 3:27am where I am right now. It wouldn’t matter whether it was 3:27am or 6:27pm or any time in between, I’d be putting in 16-18 hours a day, getting paid for eight (since I was stupid enough to go on salary when, after weeks at 38 hours per week, they told me I could either convert from hourly-contract or go find another job – the instant I converted, they started demanding 80+ hours per week or else), and being told I was a worthless piece of garbage for not having finished it in January despite being told back then that it wasn’t needed and I shouldn’t work on it.
Bitter? Moi?
Hmmm…good thread…
Let’s see…I guess the first thing to consider would be how far back do I have to go for an “earlier incarnation”…
Last year?
Getting ready to do battle with the Dragonlady of Kojen…
2001?
Giving up on another week of fruitless job searching in Vancouver Can’t-ada…
2000?
1st half…heading home after another wasted day in a dead end minimum wage job to get stoned to the tits…Calgary, Alberta
2nd half…off to Buxiban class after a long day in yoyoban in Hsin Chu, but with my mouth watering in anticipation of the local chapter of Water Buffalos’ Bowling Extravaganza…this was the drunkest anyone could get in a single night…my head gets foogy (sick [sic]) just remembering the hangovers…
1992-99
Ending the long hard day of skiing with a double top to bottom on both Blackcomb and Whistler, finishing creekside b4 the last Ganjala ride to take me back to the village…most probably about to get behind the wheel of a cab (limo in the later years) to shuttle drunks and tourists around the resort.
or I may have been getting ready for a 6 O’clock call for one of the many plays I produced, directed or acted in.
If I go back any further, I will give away what my youthful goodlooks, charm and exuberance hide so well… 
I’d be heading into the ‘G’ to watch friday night footy. In Summer I’d be heading there to watch us belt the crap out of the Poms or Kiwis in the cricket. Either way I’d be 3 part pissed by the time I got home.
winging on the nj turnpike heading to bet some ponies and knock a few beers down