When me and Joe worked for the TV station, we used to buy bottles of cider and drink them in the office. This was when we worked at night (usually 5 till 10.) We�d call it �going out for special chips� � a phrase which most of our co-workers got to know about. Sometimes we�d drink the cider down by the river or go back to the office and pour it into mugs, pretending it was tea. Sometimes we�d share the stuff around (share the love!) but only a few people would partake (hello, Lesley, Campbell, Andy, Rodger!) Other times we�d get speed and do it in the toilets. It was like some episode of fucking �This Life�! I don�t know if any of the bosses ever realised what we were up to. One of them was a bit of a lush herself � you could usually smell the vodka off her breath. Another was a speed and coke fiend who was always really hyper (I wonder why?!) The other two bosses didn�t really seem to have any of those kind of vices. Anyway, the �special chips� always made the evenings go quicker.
We had to answer phone calls from viewers who either wanted information on the shows they�d just watched or advice on a particular issue. The night we had rape counsellors in was really heavy because some people who phoned obviously just wanted someone to talk to and wouldn�t listen when we told them that we were supposed to pass them over to a counsellor (we weren�t trained to deal with such calls). It was the same when the heroin addiction show was on. There were also one or two shows about alcoholism, but I didn�t work on those nights (on purpose!) Sometimes people would phone up and complain about the most inane things, such as the background music on a programme being too loud (these kind of calls were usually from old people with nothing better to do than moan about trivial things like that, bless them).
It was a training for work programme, not a real job as such, so perhaps that�s why the bosses turned a blind eye to the drinking that went on. We had parties in the office at Christmas. Phones would be ringing and we�d all be standing around with cans of lager and boxes of wine, with music on, spilling drink on the computers. Insane! One year I was sent out to buy the alcohol (but I had to get them to put it through the till as �refreshments� so the boss could claim it back on expenses - �200 worth of refreshments � yeah!) and it was a pretty good party. Paul brought in some speed for a few of us and we all got pretty fucked up. Pauline�s crazy boyfriend, Cubby, got pissed and broke a table and was asked to leave. Those were the days!
Every Thursday for about six weeks, a few of us went to college to study something or other. We were supposed to go on Thursdays and Fridays, but most of us never made it on the Fridays because we�d get our expenses on the Thursday night and spend them all in the pub! Me and Paul were particularly bad for that. We�d hit Fat Boab�s after work, drink lager and whiskey and talk about Husker Du, Uncle Tupelo and lots of other good shit. Sometimes we made it to college on the Fridays, but we were always feeling like crap.
I worked there for 2 � years and would sometimes go to work in the morning still drunk from the night before. Especially when I�d been drinking with Joe the previous night. He�d come round my bed-sit and we�d get hammered. He�d usually polish off any remaining booze the next day and then we�d go to work, which wasn�t always a good idea. We were always late and everyone always knew we�d been steaming the night before. One day, after a pretty crazy night/morning of vodka and pills with Tom, me and Joe went to work and Joe collapsed in a heap and had to be discreetly removed from the building by me and Jim. God knows how the boss didn�t see that. Before he fell over, he was going up to all these new people who had just started and shaking their hands and talking complete shit. That was pretty funny but what those people must have thought, I don�t know. The mind boggles!
The place was always really busy � a lot of people worked there. When I first started, I found it pretty daunting. I only really spoke to a couple of people for the first week or two. This rockabilly guy called Rory took me out drinking on my first day but I soon realised he was a pretty annoying wanker who got really tiresome when drunk. Then I hooked up with a couple of other people who turned out to be cunts.
Stephen McAllister became a really good friend for many months. We�d hang out together a lot. I�d go and see his band, in which he played bass. We even played on the same bill once, which was pretty good fun. That was our first gig as Shy Rights Movement, at the old 13th Note bar. June �95. Also on the bill were Deadcat Motorbike, playing their last show before Stuart went onto form Mogwai. Anyway, McAllister turned out to be the kind of fucker who would spend an evening cheerfully giving me �advice� on everything that was wrong with my personality and my entire life. It turns out that�s why he only had about 3 friends. He did it so many times before I retaliated and then, well, he obviously couldn�t handle it because he just walked away and out of my life forever (I�m glad to say). I saw him again, months later, in Sleazy�s. He�d lost so much weight I thought he looked anorexic. We blanked each other. Stephen, I hope you�re happy and well, but you were still a cunt! (By the way, did you ever move to London and make it big with your shit band, in which you laughably thought you were the Brian Wilson figure just because you played bass and wrote the tunes? You couldn�t even come up with an original bass-line or write an original tune, let alone compose a masterpiece like �Pet Sounds�, you fucking arrogant prick.)
The other cunt was Steven McCrone � although I didn�t hang out with him as much. He ended up getting a good job with the company we worked for and dating one of the bosses. But he was really full of himself and used to go on and on about how he used to be a Pizza Hut manager in Dundee and how much of a �babe magnet� he was when in that position of great power (!!!!) I went to his house once and he had all these �Star Trek� videos and models. He was obsessed with it.
There was someone called Steven there who I liked, though.. Steven Ceretti was a nice guy who was into the Smiths as much as me, so we�d talk about them a lot, and about books and plays. He, like me, was a budding writer and we once sent off a couple of our plays to a local theatre company (no reply, of course!) He used to dress up as a bus conductor and go out to clubs. The chicks loved it, apparently! He was a really nice, funny guy. Always very mysterious about his Italian origins.. I think he wanted people to assume he had connections to the Mob or something. I turned him onto the books of Charles Bukowski. So much so, in fact, that he never did return my copy of �Women�. Ah well. These things happen. He was a cool guy and I liked him a lot.
One of the first people to actually speak to me was a 50 something Welshman called Mike. Most mornings, he�d greet me by putting me in a headlock (in a nice way, I mean!) He once blew a raspberry to a woman caller who was being rude to him. Then he hung up on her. That was fucking priceless! He liked a drink too. It seemed like most of us did!
Ryna was a crazy woman who�d come in and say things like �I drank 2 bottles of wine last night, by myself, in the bath!� (This was before she even said hello!) She�d tell co-workers and callers alike all sorts of intimate details about her life, which none of us really cared to know about. I met her fairly recently and she�d just got married. Poor guy! He looked like the kind of downtrodden soul who would fall for her �charms�.
Working at the TV station was an interesting period in my life and, from it, I made some good friends and drinking buddies and also some people I would cross the street to avoid.
Who wants some special chips, then??