Christmas time means many things to many people. It means kind smiles. It means the good of humanity. For the working world, it means that office party where things go right or wrong. For my first attendance to a holiday party, I held my own in embarrassing stories. I managed to get myself tanked, and I blew chunks in the country club’s parking lot… then I fell into it and messed up my knee.. not to mention my pants and shoes. It was bad, but luckily no one saw me. There were other, more important things, occurring within the walls of the club while I floundered about outside in my own hell.
It turns out that the inhibitions of my co-workers were dropped to an alarmingly low standard. The next morning, not only did people look like the walking dead, the office was buzzing with the stories of the fight. It turns out if you put people of college age together with free alcohol many things happen. People hook up. Some girl was hooking up with some guy, but this other guy was thinking he wasn’t going to let that happen, and a brawl broke out. No one really spoke of in the morning – except for the murmurs (“did you hear? yeah, it was ridiculous”). Now, to put this in perspective, these were not common workers like myself and my comrades. These people manage departments. So, you know this party had to be good if management was duking it out.
Then there’s the story of the mystery employee that went into a stall to throw up on himself and then fall asleep in a seat position on the toilet. Attendants had to let him out after a cool thirty minutes of trying to wake him up. His name was not actually throw out there. Lucky for him. It makes me think about whether I was being talked about. I’ve only been with the company about a month and a half now, and I doubt anyone really knows me. Plus, I recall the lot being empty – though my memory doesn’t serve me very well.
I recall being outside at some point hugging the girl that had recruited me, and then I bummed a smoke off of her. While I was outside, my supervisor appeared and I shook his hand with my cigarette. He seemed to not have noticed how inebriated I was. Maybe he did, but he’s too much of a gentleman to tell me I was acting like an ass.
Next holiday party I’m going to go with what I learned:
1 – Steer clear of all important personnel. This can be fatal to your career.
2 – Always puke outside, but remember you can’t sit in it because it messed up your clothing.
3 – Assure your ride of your whereabouts. You don’t want him/her leaving without you because you’ve passed out in a bush.
4 – If you’re going to be in a stall to hurl, make sure you’re facing the right direction.
5 – No matter what happens, don’t punch anyone at any cost for any reason.
6 – Anything with the liquor in the name is something you should not be had (this includes things like “Rum and Cole/Cuba Libre”. “Vodka Tonics”, “Whiskey Sours”, and all wines.)
Grand total that night, I had 3 Rum and Cokes, one vodka tonic, three massive goblets of wine, and a beer. I also had copious amounts of food – since this thing was catered by a food factory and it just didn’t stop coming. I realized how much food I had actually eaten out in the parking lot. The human stomach is an amazingly large thing. Surprisingly, I enjoyed myself, made a few friends, and got home before midnight (I think), but I hated myself in the morning.
JJRC
