There is a very good reason why I don’t drink Tequila. Actually there are several, but when your possibly-soon-to-be-new-bosses insist on plying you with Jose Cuervo Gold and Patrón, you’re hardly in a position to say no.
One of those good reasons is trying to piece together the events of the evening that led me from attending a business proposition meeting [I was headhunted - whoop whoop] to making out with a George Clooney look-a-like in the parking lot of the restaurant [propositioning of another kind].
I will go a step further and state that flu medication and Tequila don’t mix either [that inserts come with warnings for a reason]; but in my defense, I thought the alcohol would beat the bug out of my system. Well I feel pretty beaten alright, like I’ve done ten rounds with Mike Tyson.
The good news is that after a couple of shots my prospective employers were even more eager to have me in their company than prior to our meeting and furthermore, I was already promoted before I was even hired. Oh and I’ve yet to even show them my fabuloso CV, so I just might be running the organisation by the end of the day!
The bad news is that the George Clooney clone more than likely resembles George W Bush in the light of day, and without several litres of gold poison coursing through my veins.
Anyway, once I have recovered from this awful hangover [thanks karma darling] I will return to fill in the blanks. Well the ones I can recall, anyway.
Oh and did I mention I go on leave in two hours – for three weeks!
*insert happy dance*