It's been a whole year since the last one, and so this week it was time once again for our annual actuarial company dinner.
The venue this year was the Rendezvous Hotel in Flinders Street, which featured lots of alcohol, some passable food, and a waiting staff whose command of English was roughly comparable to John Howard's command of Klingon.
"Can I get a beer?"
nervous sideways glance
"Oh, never mind."
For some reason the entertainment (once again provided by those "fortunate" enough to have completed their actuarial training since the last dinner) sat at the let's-get-the-crowd-involved end of the spectrum, rather than the more palatable (for the audience, at least) let's-put-on-some-silly-costumes-and-do-a-skit end.
And so it came to pass that the people at our table had to construct a story and improvise a play using some found objects, including two small suction cups, a bottle of liquid paper, a roll of yarn and a hot pink fright wig.
The details are too tedious to recount, so I'll leave it there.
Anyway, thank God there was beer.
At least, there was once I found a waiter who spoke Klingon.