ROSEMARY ABBOTT | Culture
REGRETSVILLE
A Christchurch man has spent his Saturday morning in an anxious spiral, utterly convinced his career is hanging by a thread after work drinks last night on the city’s Oxford Terrace strip.
29-year-old project manager Alastair Lees awoke today with a pounding craft beer hangover, patchy memories of the evening, and a gnawing certainty that he’d said something catastrophically stupid to someone important.
“All I remember is starting with a pale ale at Kong and then, next thing, I’m halfway through a long ramble at Fat Eddie’s about how the office ‘doesn’t respect the creative process’,” Lees told The Whakataki Times, clutching a Berocca like a life preserver. “Could’ve been to anyone. Could’ve been to one of the partners. Could’ve been to the new grad. God, I hope it wasn’t to Sophie from accounts.”
Lees’ colleagues confirm had been “chatty” from the early rounds, moving seamlessly from craft beer to espresso martinis, before ending the night in the kind of philosophical conversation that only happens at 1:30 am and is regretted by 9:00 am.
“I keep getting these mental flashes,” Lees said, grimacing. “Like… did I say I could ‘absolutely do Angus’s job better than him’? Did I tell Bridget her LinkedIn headshot was misleading? Or did I, God forbid, call Katie ‘mate’?”
Lees’ next move is unclear. At press time, he was toggling between drafting apology emails to his entire team and googling ‘how to fake your own death and start over in Oamaru.’
More to come.
