Humiliation

You know, I've got myself into a bit of hot water. I was having lunch the other day in the staff canteen with my colleague Duncan and others when he asked me in his sly smirking way why I write so enthusiastically about companies, organisations, architects and planners 'who have absolutely no skills, talent or ability', as he put it. I bristled.

He listed many of the people who are featured regularly on my lovely wee blog in less than flattering terms. He described Sir Ian Wood as a 'semi-senile old goat' who was basically 'a Tory puppet caught telling lies during the referendum campaign and was personally responsible for the shambles of Union Terrace Gardens'. Out of the corner of my eye I could see people sniggering around the room.

He recalled our trip to Dobbies back in July and said it was a terrible experience - humiliating and embarrassing. He said that Dobbies was 'basically a s***house full of overpriced tat, half-dead plants and pensioners stuffing their faces with the most unhealthy food imaginable while their grandchildren ran around creating chaos'.

Unknown to Duncan, I was secretly rolling up my personal copy of the Press and Journal below the table and just waiting for my moment to strike.

He said that my unconditional support for 'a series of awful and dismal developments throughout Aberdeen' was ridiculous and made me look like a fool. He said I was 'an embarrassment to the entire planning profession'. I tensed up.

And at the mention of Hon Dr Donald Trump I leapt to my feet and smacked Duncan on the side of the head with the newspaper. 'Take that!' I shouted. It was a magnificent blow - his Pot Noodle went flying across the room as he fell backwards to the floor. The Pot Noodle landed in Big Sandra's handbag.

For a moment I was the victor. 'That will teach you!' I shouted and looked around for appreciation and support. There was none. And then I realised what I had done. I slipped quietly out of the canteen and locked myself in the executive toilet.  I stayed there for a few hours ignoring the banging on the door. When everything was quiet I slipped out, sprinted to the car park and drove home.

I'm not sure what will come of this. There could be an enquiry, a tribunal or even charges of assault or early retirement. I feel that I was taunted - he baited and humiliated me knowing that I might react badly. I spent today wielding my trusty axe in the garden and felt a little better. Still I did the wrong thing and might even have to apologise.  The shame of it.  I haven't even heard anything from John Glenday by way of an apology for proposing that Aberdeen should get a Carbuncle Award.

Sorry to be a bit down but I will bounce back.  Cheeriebye form Auchterness.