Ode to the Company Christmas Party

Hanson gets me in trouble AGAIN!! I swear this is not turning into the Hanson blog.

 
I have been involved in some pretty epic company Christmas parties; some of which have involved blacking out and ending up across town at a Denny's somehow, bringing drunk co-workers back to my parents house and explaining in a slur that my co-workers would be dead if my parents kicked them out, and my favorite - getting the company banned from ever returning to the hosting facility.

These experiences happened during a time when I wasn't making attempts at establishing a career. 

Now that times have changed, I am in a smaller, more conservative department. So it was without surprise that this year's shin dig was not made up of rowdy behavior as in years past. BUT I started going there and decided to open up my mouth in an epic way.

First of all, you know I'm drunk when:
A) I am constantly smiling.
B) My incessant laughter starts turning heads.
C) I don't stop talking.
D) I am talking about things I shouldn't, sans filter.

All of the above occurred last night.

It all started when the Backstreet Boys came on. I was being transported back to middle school dances (you know the ones- its your first time slow dancing with a boy and you both dance with your arms out, elbows locked. If you're really good, your legs are straight with your knees locked too. You teeter totter back and forth. When the songs over, you run back to your girlfriends giggling and start rumors that your dance partner is now your official boyfriend and then you get your heart crushed when you find out his friends dared him to dance with you - oh that didn't happen to you? Never mind).


I of course announced that the BSB were bringing back middle school memories, and other co-workers confirmed experiencing similar time warps. Somehow, this paved the way for me to start blabbing about my former Hanson obsession.

My boss's boss, amused, asked, "Did you have posters on your bedroom wall?"

I of course said, "By posters, you mean SHRINE?! OH MY GOD YES! I HAD A WALL SIZED POSTER AND A BUNCH OF POSTERS FROM TIGER BEAT ALL AROUND IT!" (I was talking as loudly as I am typing).

To which everyone started making fun of me. Once again, flashbacks of school mates teasing me about Hanson started to occur. I kept trying to emphasize that it was a former obsession but my enthusiasm about it was indicating otherwise.

Somehow my boss's boss changed the subject and somehow started talking about playing spin the bottle as a kid, to which I said yelled, "Oooh! YOU'RE A P-I-M-P! WOO!!" My small department of eight stopped talking. The bar fell silent. Everyone looked at me and suddenly burst out guffawing, as I had officially blown my "playin' it cool" cover.

"Yeah...I'm going to stop drinking now." I wasn't so tipsy that I didn't realize the path on which I was headed. Yikes! Who on earth in the corporate world, tells their boss's boss - not just their boss- that they are a P-I-M-P? And yes I spelled it out like Jay-Z.

This morning I came into work feeling completely fine, but everyone was like, "How ya feeling? HARDY HAR HAR!"

And my boss's boss came up to me and said, "So! Ya still sauced from last night or what?!"

Hardy har har.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but stick to O'douls if you want to avoid your boss's boss singing Mmmbop or Jay-Z to you from down the hall.