Scran/Kai

My Dear Princess and Dear Fellows,

Tonight me and Lemon were at the pub. It is our agent's Xmas night out for all of their contractors. So we got there at 4:30pm to order our drinks for the kick-off.

Don't get me wrong. It is not like we were JUST there for the beer. There was food as well. 

The thing is, if Lemon had not been going there is no way I would have bothered. The thing about work functions is that fecking people insist on talking to you about fecking work. I mean. What the eff?

I'm sure you all know me well enough to know that the last bloody thing I want to talk about once I'm out of those office doors is IT. I've even taken Lemon to task about it when walking from one office to another.

"The doors are back THERE," I have told her. "Stop talking to me about food safety and start telling me about your children."

Our actual agent came to speak to us and told us about a nasty prostate incident he had experienced on his last holiday. It was an adventure holiday on the Silk Trail and he found he couldn't pee halfway up a mountain. It took 6 hours for the ambulance to come and get him.

I can't imagine anything more horrific. I hate being ill away from home. I couldn't think of a story from my own life to compare, but then I remembered that Shetland Dad had experienced something similar in 1999 when he flew from NZ to Shetland for his school reunion.

On arrival, he immediately found himself sent to hospital. The long flight and the inability to change position had led to his developing some sort of urinary tract problem. 

So he missed the reunion, and to add insult to injury one of his mates had gone up to the microphone and announced to ALL of Shetland Dad's mates:

"Ehhhh... Ah'd just like to announce that Shetland Dad cannae be here this evenin' on account of he's got somethin' WRANG wi' his COCK."

I related this story too loudly to agent and Lemon and probably several other people within earshot and it was only when I got to the cock part that I started to wonder if my story wasn't a wee bit inappropriate.

Oh well.

The catering was really very good at this affair. A nice lady kept floating by, offering us nibbles from wooden paddles. The creamed artichoke things and the mashed pea things were useless, but me and Lemon zeroed in on little pie things and popcorn chicken bites.

Agent was still talking at us, when I nudged Lemon and pointed out that Nice Lady had put trays of uneaten nibbles on a table behind us.

"Excuse us," we said and broke off with Agent still in mid-chat about work. Enough. No more of that.

The thing about the pair of us is that neither of us gives a shit about the look of the thing. So while other people were taking the chance to network and discuss IT with colleagues while having the odd nibble, Lemon and me basically made a meal of it. I think I may have eaten an entire paddle of pies.

Which brings me to today's title. In NZ, the word for this sort of snacky food is "kai". Which I believe equates to Scottish "scran" rather well.

So Lemon and me had a grand evening of popcorn chicken and pie thingies while ordering more free drinks. It was a good night and I felt very sad that Lemon would be leaving us soon.

"Oooh, that reminds me," she said. "My NEW agent is having THEIR Christmas drinks on THURSDAY night! Do ya wanna come?"

Well, I'm not sure. Will there be popcorn chicken?

I will be there.

S.

p.s. Pie thingies not in picture. Because we have EATEN THEM ALL.