ERROL PARKER | Editor-at-large | Contact
Shortly before leaving the Droga5 Betoota corporate tent this afternoon out at the racecourse, Edward Horowitz’s boss told him that he’d seem him tomorrow morning at 8.
Laughing to himself as he waved goodbye and headed toward the Racecourse Metro station, it became apparent to the 28-year-old welterweight art director that his boss wasn’t joking.
“He actually thinks I’ll be there,” he said.
“Is he kidding myself? [sic] I shouldn’t even be standing up right now, I’m leaning on this bloody hand loop like the economy leans on commodities right now. Shit, I gotta get some water when I get off at Rue Du Chateau. I am pee-eye-double-esse-eee-dee right now,”
“I can’t even look at my fucking iCal to see what it is that’s so important! My motor skills are diminished! But challenge accepted, but. Oi but yeah it’s like Mission Impossible, or nah? Anyway, wish me luck.”
In the interests of journalistic integrity, our reporter alighted from the metro train at the next station to call Mr Horowitz’s boss to confirm whether he was actually required to front up at 8.
Speaking candidly to The Advocate after what he calls ‘a long day at the crease’, Edward’s boss Greg Payne said the youngster certainly wasn’t expected before lunch.
“It’s a test,” laughed Payne.
“Young Edward was shitfaced, he could barely maintain eye contact, hold a conversation or keep his own balance. It’s a bad look and there are clients here, so I told him I’d see him at 8 in the morning,”
“The natural response to that is to get your dishevelled drunk self-home. Eat something, drink water and get into bed. I hope Edward has done just that. I guess we’ll see in the morning.”
More to come.
