whole lotta dozy

Years ago, as I joined the rate-race for the first time, I was a management trainee in a bank. I was convinced by my 'mentor', the assistant branch manager, that it would be a good idea to accompany him to the local Round Table meeting. Y'know the story... raise money for charity, good opportunity for personal development, looks good on your CV, etc.

Well, off we went to the back room of a shitty pub in Sheffield to meet with a dozen or so desparate men. 'Where was the fevered debate on the issues of the day?' you ask. 'Where was the ritual which would bond us together as brothers and give each other work at the expense of non-Tablers' I asked. Nowhere. The only thing these men were desparate for was to get out from under the missus' feet and sink a few pints with their mates. The nearest we got to a fevered debate was when they got to discuss whether they should invite Mandy or Sasha or both back as the star turn for the next Strippers Night.

It was like being back in the Scouts. Except with ashtrays.

I never went back. I never will.