In some ways many people will be happy that the Christmas party season is at an end.
Thursday evening and I was lucky enough to have been invited to a posh party night in a Glasgow hotel with a group of friends.
We danced for most of the night and nearing the end of the evening, Cathy our host, dipped under the table to recover her uncomfortable shoes which she had earlier kicked off to ease her aching feet.
“I can only find one shoe,” she announced to the rest of us.
“Don’t worry,” I assured.
“No one would steal a shoe.”
We literally left no table unturned, but unfortunately for Cathy her missing shoe was nowhere to be found.
Hence Cinderella, as we nicknames her, had to hobble into the taxi on one shoe.
The following evening it was my works Christmas party, but early next morning I received a text from my colleague Elaine to say that she had gone home with the wrong jacket.
“Janice, I caught sight of myself in the mirror when I got home and realised that my black leather jacket was about five sizes too big.”
She went on.
“And the sleeves were down to my knees.”
So if Elaine had the wrong jacket, someone else was missing a jacket too.
Back at work I discovered that one of our newspaper vendors, Charlie, had gone home with the finance director's jacket, which meant he had to go home in the freezing cold in his shirt sleeves.
Another colleague Jim went home with Graham’s jacket which meant Graham had no jacket either.
However, phoning the venue later in the day, we managed to recover one missing jacket.
Later that evening my son Ross phoned and I asked how his Christmas night went.
“Bit of a headache mum,” he moaned.
“And I’ve lost my leather jacket!”
Apparently his female colleague lost her handbag which had her house keys and mobile in it which meant she had to borrow money for a taxi and sleep on her mum and dad’s couch.
“Just as well Christmas was around the corner,” I said to my pals.
“Hopefully Santa brought some new jackets.”
The other night whilst on the late night train home, I found myself in the midst of a rather peculiar argument which ensued between three rather inebriated passengers.
And the topic?
Our traditional Scottish New Year steak pie.
“Eddie, whit do you mean you don’t have sausage in yer New Year’s steak pie?”
“Am jist saying that a’ve never heard of anyone buying a New Year’s steak pie wae sausage in it Bobby.”
“Eddie, everybody knows there’s sausage in yer New Year’s steak pie.”
“Yer talking mince Bobby.”
Eddie was starting to get a little ratty with his pal.
“Because it would nae be called a steak pie then would it?”
“It would be called a steak and sausage pie.”
Eddie seemed to be making a fair point.
“Naw it widnae Eddie because there’s still steak in it.”
“Whit dis it matter if there’s sausage in it or not?” Tam butted in.
“I’ll tell yae Tam.” Eddie wasn’t for letting the matter go.
“Only poor folk had sausage in their steak pie because then the pie was cheaper.”
“Naw it wisnae.” Bobby was now getting quite animated.
“You trying to say we were moochers Eddie.”
“Naw Bobby.” Eddie was swaying somewhat in his seat.
“I’m jist saying that posher folk could afford tae have their steak pie without the sausage.”
“Let’s agree to disagree.” Tam seemed to be the most sober and sensible one out of the three, but it didn’t make much difference.
“You were as poor as us Eddie,” Bobby quickly pointed out.
“So ah don’t know how you didnae have sausage in yer pie.”
“Naw, we even had our own car and you lot had tae get the bus Bobby.”
And I couldn’t quite understand the comparison between owning a car and eating a sausage-less steak pie.
“Everybody got the bus Bobby,” Eddie was adamant.
“Just like everyone had sausage in their steak pie.”
Tam and I rolled our eyes at the pair who were in their own ‘steak-pie world’ as we noticed our stop fast approaching.
“And anyway,” Eddie hoped to get the last word in.
“Am just saying that av never heard anyone in the butchers asking for a New Year’s Steak and Sausage pie!”
Staggering off the train poor Tam was still trying to keep the peace.
“Right guys,” He bellowed.
“Fancy a fish supper?”
“Naw,” Eddie tried to be a smart ass.
“Ah think I’ll have a steak pie supper.”
Quick as a flash bobby retorted.
“Aye, and a bet you’ll no find a sausage in that either!”
So whether you’re steak pie contains sausage or whether it doesn’t, have a wonderful New Year.