There was no early sign of the newly coined ‘Black-eye Friday’ in Yarm
this lunchtime as I met two other retired gentlefolk, with whom I used to share
an office (or at least a ‘pod’ of desks) for what I termed an office party for
those who no longer have an office; the two course meal was excellent and the
conversation was convivial as we caught up on news and regurgitated favourite
working memories (the former finally, after a few years, becoming more
prevalent and interesting than the latter), which kept us occupied for two and
a half hours until the more heavy duty office parties moved in, and we, as
befitted our status, moved out.
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