I was amazed yesterday morning to find Kellie still alive. Very pale and exceedingly fragile but alive, albeit moving verrry slowly and occasionally sipping water and groaning softly.
Others trickled in during the morning, the trashed detritus of the office Christmas party. Some didn't make it. Those that did avoided the sunlight and the coffee and indeed any unnecessary movement.
As the morning wore on videos and photos began to circulate (mine were merely innocent fun from before the BIG DRUNK took hold).
I saw horrible dancing. I heard chronic karaoke caterwauling. I saw Dale's trousers split wide open and wished I hadn't. I saw things no sane man should ever be required to look at.
Those survivors who could remember vague snippets of the night before regaled me with tales of sexual deviancy, stinking alcohol vomit and drinking the bar dry so the poor staff had to run out to the pub across the street and buy more.
After that, they hit the night clubs for more drinking and falling over/dancing. At some point in the early hours two of the partners remembered that their wives were due to pick them up at the restaurant at eleven. Those two didn't make it in yesterday.
Rather than face the music they hauled the entire crowd off to a curry house to try to eat the alcohol out of their systems.
No chance. Several tales emerged about the taxi rides home, interrupted by regular stops to redecorate roadside verges and fall over.
At some point in the proceedings Emily's camera went AWOL for a while. It wasn't until late morning when she managed to download its contents onto the server that the penis portraits were discovered.
"My memory card has been violated!" she wailed across the office.
Many were the suspects but none came forward to fess up and Emily wisely declined an identity parade.
You've heard me moan and swear about office Christmas parties for way too many years. Having witnessed another one I shall not be letting up.
Merry Christmas, one and all.
10 comments:
I had a great night at jazz.. no booze just a dry ginger and a coffee later, wonderful night and I remembered it, and although did not reach my bed until 12.30 was up at 6am and took sister in law shopping at 8am..and I still have a smile on my face ha ha...but suppose youngsters nowadays live for the moment..
Sad to say a 19 year old I know had his drink spiked and woke up being pumped out at the hospital and they found the drug, so not all good this drinking lark...
Never mind, everything ready for meals on Sunday, just got a little more baking to do..So hope you are looking forward to that...
So Merry (but not too merry) Christmas to all your friends on here..
BAH, living for the moment, Beryl? It's more like living without thought for tomorrow, and there's a big difference. I never understood drinking so much you're sick the next day.
Merry Christmas, David, even though you don't worship the Baby Jesus.
I experienced those parties in my younger days, as far as I know. There's fun in the beginning, but once you've started it's hard to stop. There's a point of no return, beyond which the fun isn't fun.
Moving to Los Angeles cured me: too many miles to drive in unfamiliar territory, and doing so without all my faculties too frightening a prospect.
I shudder to think what would have happened to me had I stayed in Chicago where the public transportation is good, or moved to a small town where one can stagger home.
Ah, you oldsters … While I work all day and come home pooped you go out gallivanting and gigging with your reprobate musician friends.
Glad you had a good time. And yes, I'll be over to eat you out of house and home on Sunday.
Hee hee, Robyn. Yes, the youth of today seem to be hell bent on getting a liver transplant before they reach middle age.
A very Merry Christmas to you, too. I may no longer worship the baby Jesus but I still appreciate the man as an adult and try to take His lessons to heart.
Petrea, had you stayed in Chicago you'd probably be as curmudgeonly as me by now and roll your eyes at the binge-drinking excesses of youth. Moving to the sun was the right decision.
Sounds like a Hunter S. Thompson story.
Christmas Office Parties are the epitome of Fear and Loathing, Vanda.
Things were so much better (in an evidentiary manner or rather lack of pictorial proof) before the advent of camera phones! Anyway, I learned a long time ago, the minute you start thinking about what you've had to drink, you need to stop and have someone take your keys and call you a cab! Of course, none of this was from personal experience! xoxoxoxox
Happy Holidays!
Sounds like too much booze and racing willies (as well as other nefarious things). You were wise to leave when you did.
Among other things, I plan to reread Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol" during the weekend, "visit" the parties of Fred and the Cratchits.
A merry Christmas to you, Dive; and to Alifan, Full, and the rest of your family. :-)
Thanks Mrs M and the same to you, I am up to my neck in cooking but then I love it...
Hee hee, Savannah. Of course none of our lessons were learned from 'personal experience'. We became older and wiser without ever being naughty … er …
xoxoxoxox
Happy Holidays to you and the Crew!
And a very Merry Christmas to you too, Ms.M. Here's to you and Norm enjoying a wonderful holiday and a great 2012.
Dickens is such a warm blanket of goodness to wrap yourself up in on a cold winter's evening. I'm almost halfway through my complete Dickens tour for this winter and it just gets better and better each year.
Mum, I can't wait to eat it all tomorrow.
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