WELL BEHAVED WOMEN RARELY MAKE HISTORY

reading, writing and running from normalcy since 1993.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

How to leave a party


I have been feeling a little bit anti-Christmas this year and I thought that by going to my company Christmas party I'd feel a little better. I went. I felt better. The party was a lot of fun. It is so rare for any of my colleagues to get together at a social event.

The bigger picture always reminds me that for the most part we spend more time with each other than we do with our children, spouses, significant others or parents. We are a tight knit group and for the most part we get along. This is where the story gets interesting.

We have had our party at the same locale for the last 4 years. We order dinner and sometime around midnight the restaurant turns into a nightclub. We all (spouses and significant others included) had a great dinner, we mingled, we told stories. After the meal the chef brought out a suckling pig for us to eat (Seriously, AFTER dinner....WHY? You would think that a pig would be a part of the meal, however, clearly he had intended the pig to be dessert).



I left shortly before midnight because I saw the waitress bring out trays of shots. Shots are always my cue to leave a party, because I know my colleagues and that is a sure sign of the evening descending into a rather ugly abyss. True to form, this evening was no exception.

A member of our party got into what "everyone" agrees was a rather small disagreement with a bouncer. Another member of our staff tried to find out what the problem was by asking what he could do to help and somehow he was shoved onto the dance floor and stepped on. Upon seeing this everyone else decides to rush to his aid and, of course, fisticuffs ensue (On a completely unrelated note; how much do I love the word "fisticuffs"?). The police come, break up the fight, arrest some other bar patrons, etc. THIS IS EXACTLY WHY ONE MUST LEAVE A PARTY AS SOON AS THE SHOTS ARRIVE AT THE TABLE....you get to miss all of the excitement and avoid a lovely trip to the local holding cell. I am much too pretty to go to jail, not to mention my disdain for community soap.