“You’re the designated driver!” smiled the Editor loudly as I arrived at the New Year bash, handing me the conical hat with the prominent pink ‘D’ on it. The Ed swears blind that the ‘D’ doesn’t stand for ‘Darren’ who was always the designated driver on account of the photocopies he made of himself at our first-ever office party, and at which he was allowed to drink…
“OK,” I responded respectfully, but secretly elated that I’d be allowed to drive a car (which the magistrate said I’d never do again) and hoping against hope it might be the Publisher’s bio-fuel powered double cab. ‘Tonight’s going to be a good night’, sang the Peas.
Our office party was really great, and reminded me of one of my family’s shin-digs in my youth. Heck – at some point it was just like being at home as I watched the Publisher and the Ed go at each other, voices raised and with fingers wagging under the other’s nose. Soon after that the Publisher emerged with an envelope and a generous handshake – “Here, Shim,” he slurred, thrusting the envelope my way. It was marked: Editor, The Month, “Enjoy yourshelf at Shimonshig; and if anyone ashkes, you’re the editor.” I left
immediately, lest the Publisher and Ed be reconciled, pausing only to carry out the empties and transfer my hat to the office cactus.
Simonsig has a fabulous holiday offering of Kaapsel Vonkel MCC and oysters served on the Cuvée terrace on Saturday afternoons – and it’s to that that the Editor had been invited. My date, who was particularly impressed that I had been promoted, and I arrived shortly after four to take up a sunny spot with an entertaining view of the band for the day, Cherry Vinyl, and table groaning under oysters, a cheese platter and a bottle of Kaapse Vonkel.
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