The air was crisp against my cheeks as I stumbled out of the building. It was the morning after the night before, and I was regretting the tipsy decision-making of Harry, who thought it would be a good idea to get another round in. I, being the kind and honest gentleman that I am, had to reciprocate. Then, the process repeated itself a few more times.
Hazy, I moved slowly across the forecourt to where my olive green moped was tucked away, fumbling for my keys as I went. Helmet on, immediately increasing the sense of nausea that had been threatening to create a bad stink start to the day. I clambered on, inserted the keys, sat for a second to contemplate calling in sick, decided against, and started the engine. The emasculating whine of Morgan’s engine emanated from beneath my backside, and I was on my way.
I work down in Soho, in a small digital marketing agency called Found!, a cheesy company that had big bubble writing on all of its paraphernalia. It was a chastening place to work, complete with a higher than average number of big, bubbly personalities; the exact type that you try to avoid when hung over on a Monday morning.
‘Gooooood morning there, Frank!’ The shrill receptionist’s voice pierced my brain and made me want to die. ‘And what a lovely morning it is! Good weekend, was it darling?’
‘It was sensational, thank you, Raquel. Just marvellous’.
She noted the tone of irony in my voice, before uttering: ‘On the drink again were we? You do know it is awfully bad for you. What would your mother say?!’
I wasn’t sure whether either question had been rhetorical or not, so I just smiled, hoped that they were, and walked past her desk.
The office was quiet; most people had already made it in. I placed my helmet down with a thud and mumbled some greetings to those who sat around me. Sarah, my manager, who sat next to me, smiled sweetly, knowing the score, not wanting to make a song and dance of it like Raquel had, for which I was very much appreciative.
I offered to make hot drinks before heading to the kitchen to make myself what wouldn’t be the last strong cup of coffee to be had that day.
Finally, with a sense of relief that was palpable due to nearly vomiting on myself as I drove into work, I sat down and was safe.
As the sweet aroma of the coffee danced in my nostrils, I felt as though things might just be ok.
Then Raquel started talking again.
The Warm Up 