Contrary to the previous labs where I worked in, my current lab adores having bonding sessions in one of the many pubs across the city. Okay, okay, clearly we aren’t very fun and adventurous people; we usually head to either one of two pubs that is a stone’s throw away from campus. This means that litres of relaxation fluid are easily accessible after a long day of mind-boggling experiments, and it’s often not surprising to find our bosses (the VIPs like heads-of-department, deans) in da house. This is rather different from my after-work socialising days in Singapore; most people I know leave work promptly to beat the rush hour and to hit the sack as soon as they finish shoving dinner down their throats. I was one of them. And I have never ever ever bumped into Prof X anywhere outside our work premises, let alone see him clutching a half-empty beer mug.
Over here, consuming copious amounts of beer and getting inebriated on weeknights (even dreadful Mondays and hump-days like Wednesdays…) are favourite activities. Drinking is a national pasttime, as evident from the ubiquitous pubs, each located a few hundred metres from the next one. My dear labbies love to unwind with beer too, as if inhaling 70% ethanol whilst working in a tissue culture facility isn’t heady enough. I join them occasionally for as long as my severe lack of alcohol dehydrogenase can tolerate.
The culture difference became even more apparent to me, after I received an unusually excited email from one of the labbies declaring 7pm on Thursday night to be pub o’clock. I concede that they really do love drinking, to designate a time for pub-worshipping.
Image taken from Perpetual Kid.