'An Apology' by Nettie Thomson
Janie, my wife, says I may have made a few off-colour comments to some of you during our Christmas ‘do’ on Friday evening and I’d like to offer my sincere apologies to each of you.
Specifically, she says I should say sorry to Helen Cardyke from accounts. I’d like to assure you that contrary to your name, you are most likely not a raging lesbian who preys on the female clerks who work beside you. Wearing a trouser suit to work every day is not indicative of a sexual preference. Even if it was, it doesn’t mean you deserved to have your trousers pulled down in front of the M.D. during the Dashing White Sergeant, with a suggestion to get together with him and his good wife for a bit of double-entry you wouldn’t forget in a hurry.
I should also apologise to Sir Hugh and his lady wife, Jemima. I’m sorry if this suggestion offended either of you, but given that I then went on to tell Jemima that she could do better than an aging old fart in a suit that first saw light of day when Doris Day was a virgin, perhaps by this time you were past caring.
By the way, Sir Hugh, great choice of hotel. I was very impressed by the mile-long driveway and found it really difficult to pee on every bush along its length. Difficult, but given the amount of beer I put away, not impossible.
To the design team, I’d like to offer my assurance that I don’t really think my six-year old son could do better using nothing more than his crayons and Winnie The Pooh stencil set. I’m sure there is a lot more involved in your work than join-the-dots and colouring in and that if you tried, you certainly could keep within the lines.
I’m not entirely sure where to start apologising to everyone in Goods Inward and the warehouse. Ian, Santa would be very lucky indeed to have you in his toy warehouse, even if you did have to call the other elves lofty. Size means nothing, says Janie, and she would like me to assure you that she would know.
Helen, HR is a very important department. Your people skills are exemplary and any suggestions I may have made to the contrary are unfounded. I retract the implication HR is staffed by a group of hysterical she-bots whose idea of bolstering staff morale involved a cut in pay and quick kick up the arse on the way out.
Finally, I regret my parting comment that we were a third rate company and that all they we’d get for Christmas was our P45s wrapped up in pages from the financial times smeared with the excrement of the management team. Always assuming they had any left after all the shite they had been telling us all year.
I hope you all have a fun filled Christmas and, if I may make a suggestion for next year, could we not bring our spouses as Janie has been nipping my head all weekend.