LEGIONS of self-congratulatory wankers who spent last week in sun-soaked domestic locations have returned to work to preen about it.
Settling at desks with suntans and broad grins, travellers to the blazing-hot Lakes, the tropical Welsh coast or a Cornwall that resembled the Italian riviera cannot wait to boast of their good fortune.
Martin Bishop, aged 35, said: “The sun set high in the azure sky. Children splashing in the surf as it fell low and red over the sea. Endless unclouded days. In Whitby.”
Colleague Emma Bradford countered: “Weymouth could have been the West Indies. We only chanced our arm for a week because well, it rains doesn’t it? Not this week. Not a drop this week.”
Hannah Tomlinson said: “If it’s not James sailing on Windermere it’s f**king Dawn saying it was so warm up Northumberland you could just f**king bask in it. All of them with these superior grins like they’ve got one over on you by it being sunny in Britain.
“They’re roaming the office in packs, barking on about how cheap it was, so convenient having your own car, it was almost a shock to go in a Tesco and find everyone speaking English et bloody cetera.
“The beautific grin on Chris from IT when he explained he’d cancelled his summer holiday because in his kids’ eyes nothing could live up to that week camping in Skegness. Sickening.”
