Party Train

A couple of Friday's ago I joined the office girls and headed in to Manchester for Christmas cocktails and dinner in the Northern Quarter. The night was a blast but living outside the city becomes a drag when your evening comes to an abrupt end because you have to get the last train back to your semi rural abode. I love seeing trees and fields outside of my bedroom window but on nights like that it would be so convenient to live in the city. 

As I headed for the 10:29 train, one could have been fooled into thinking that the night was over, when in actual fact many similar individuals were continuing the party on the last Northern Rail Manchester to Leeds service. 

Yes, that festive time of year is upon us when the last train home on a Friday night becomes the party train - filled with post Christmas party goers ready to get an affordable ride home. Let's just say I didn't get the party train memo. I turned up with my bottle of M&S lemonade ready to avoid the wine hangover before I arrived at my destination in 50 minutes time. It seemed everyone else had turned up with something stronger. 

The journey home consisted of cider quaffing office workers singing Oasis anthems whilst banging the tune on the windows. I was actually enjoying the sing along until the girl sat on the floor next to me almost puked on my favourite gold heels. But we all get a little giddy during the festive season so possible puking is more than forgivable. 

It was my official office Christmas party last Friday and I was somewhat sad that I wasn't a member of the party train again. But a drunk ride home in a warm car with my sober Husband and Christmas music on full was just as entertaining.