Way too early on Saturday I got picked up by the Bartender to take care of a couple of small jobs for the club. It was quite obvious I got picked not for my impressive strength but for loyalty and being so true to my word I show up even though I'd rather stay at home and puke in a bucket... First thing to take care of: navigate a bar desk down three flights of spiral stairs, through Uppsala and back up several stairs again. The Bartender disappeared mysteriously when it was time to carry it upstairs. Just saying.
Second thing to take care of: moving the scrum machine indoors for winter storage. Bear in mind a full scrum of eight hasn't managed to move it all season - but five of us was more or less ready to have a go (four was ready and the fifth just had to suppress a cascade of vomit first). After a long session of slave labour where the gravel bags had to be cut open and emptied by hand (all this while distracted and occasionally scared by a tiny mouse), we could lift the damn thing and slide it onto the trailer while the Bartender reversed the car to and fro - all to make it more interesting. When we'd finally placed it in the garage three of us was muddy and miserable, while both the Bartender and Big B looked quite untouched. Again, just saying.
The hard work had me thinking we all earned the right to have pizza in "the world's best pizza place in Uppsala". Not sure how that works, but they were good anyway...
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