Having spent most party events trying to avoid any confrontations or blank stares, I figure I should stop once in a while to enjoy a few. Such as the last party I attended for my work event on the 15th.
I had set out my green tux T-Shirt, with my white/green relax jacket, to better facilitate the oddness one could muster up while out on the hunt for potential girls to pick up.
Being the fool to rush in, I had spent my time shaving the wolverine sideburns I was rockin, and power showered off the grim from work that day. However, this wasn’t necessary as I found out as I was the first to arrive to the party.
The location for our party was held in a grand establishment, and was the first real major party that I felt I didn’t fit in, due to the fancy service and rows of round tables draped in silky materials stood far beyond my current attire.
Spend the first 30 minutes walking around the empty room in slight embarrassment for my earliness, while trying to look for the best table to escape to the exit doorway, if need be escape is required.
Finally, after 50 minutes of drinking from my water wine glass, several party goers were starting to file in, as well as the waiters, host and Dj.
80% of the people there weren’t part of my work group, as most were much higher ups within the company, leaving my 20 year self to deal with 60+ year older drunk folk trying to regain that youthful vigor they once had.
The Dj was basically the butler from The Haunted House.
Since I knew I wouldn’t meet these people again, I decided to fuck around by going around tables and saying “Hey Grandma/Grandpa! It’s me your nephew.” And when they wouldn’t recognize me, I would declare “Man, that Alzheimer is really getting to you.” I stopped around table 3 when I found out the person I spoke to really did have Alzheimer (or at least I felt his mannerism mimicked of that.).
Even though I could have lied, or bribed, I held off that feeling to indulge in alcoholic beverages, seeing as my 20 year old self was patient enough to wait one more year.
Apparently one of the co-workers kept buying drinks for this one woman, and kept telling the waiter that “It’s from Mr.GreenToS ” So got strange looks from her throughout the evening.
The table I sat at had two bartenders, one dressed as an elf while the other madly deep within her drink. The rest of group held a varied unknown older folk. One such drunk kept tripping over the x-mas tree lights.
The banquet served several high end salads, desserts and other extravagant words I couldn’t congregate up to try out. However, due to my junk food taste buds, everything looked like shit to me and felt like I was going to sit it out hungry till I notice the Chief. The Head Chief made anyone who stopped by his private spot a chicken and waffle combo, Spazzing out as he spilled his cherry goo all over your plate).
Feeling like I shouldn’t look too anomalous for only getting one item, I quickly nabbed a dessert chocolate shot, with cherry cream on top (urgh!). Yet I choked on the overly tart slime and proceeded to let it dribbled enough out to warrant a “cum face” of discussion from others.
Eventually the rest of my co-workers showed up, and wasted no time getting smashed behind the bar. The Establishment’s staff kept trying to tell then them “they couldn’t make any flaming Dr. Peppers” while avoiding the spills of countless glasses being toppled over the counter.
At one point, there was this creepy child molester looking 70 year old bloke, seriously wearing striped child play shirt, who kept sneaking several sessions of making out with several co-workers. The only redeeming thing I could bring about him was his amazing skills of being able to sit down and back up in one motion.
I started to get jaded, as any designated driver would undergo, and stirred my eyes up to witness the first old couple to dance on the dance floor. I started to write a script about them in my mind, as if this dance was the ending to their own film. Leading me to shoot a director’s cut of the dance with their son running in and declaring their daughter was pregnant with the gardener’s son.
Saw a female Version of Bill Hader.
After a few murmurs of the dance floor being bare empty, the first karaoke song was brought out, total eclipse of my heart, came on. Then without warring, I started to do the most sporadic dance around my table. (From the flopping arms out as wings, and jumping around my chair and table as a maniac, while mouthing out the lyrics to the song.)
Unlike most people, I can start dancing whenever I feel like it, unlike the majority of those sitting and trying to avoid getting the spotlight on them.
Once the song was over, I of course earn yet another “THIS IS GONNA GO ON YOUTUBE!!” shout out. Which I heard enough in life to not care about, but I would wish at least someone would send me a link or two of those outta nowhere dancing bouts over my years in existence.
I guess the sight of an underage guy doing such a bizarre dance sober was too much for some of the older generation, and so a majority of them left soon after that.
Ultimately I would go out on the dance floor to dance whenever singers would bravely go up, which lead to my duet and dancing with my boss, singing “This is Fuckin Awesome!”. (Which would be more of an understatement in that moment for me, as I felt the crowd was far below interested in our zany actions, but nonetheless my boss felt otherwise.)
Then everyone else remaining kept using the fire exit to smoke, leading to security bursting in and yell at them for setting off the alarm soo many times.
Feeling apologetic for witnessing the inebriated partiers act towards some of the wait staff, I decided to step in and act proper to the maître d'hôtel. By giving complements of how groovy they are and telling fake stories about my horrible love life. (Such as the time I ripped the last condom I had on me by accident, or vomiting all over my prom date.)None of which was true but even so it did make the entire staff laugh till they cried.
Then Sang “I Ran” by A flock of Seagulls near the end of the night, but was moderately dreadful at it. I know I’m at least decent at dancing, well not remarkable but enough to cause flavorless people to want me to teach them, but horrible at singing at together.
Then rest was a blur of hugs and goodbyes as I left back home.
Would have posted this sooner, if it weren’t for my self-wanting needs to do things outside my pc life, such as reading my ever growing novella collection, or maintaining my sanity as countless cousins visit over the holidays.