Holiday Cheer

Is there anything better than the holiday office party? I am sitting here in a world of hurt, reeking of gin, trying not to puke on my keyboard. But we had fun, damnit. Is there any better way to spend an evening drinking ten dollar cocktails and eating steak on the company dime? Sure we did the hokey gift exchange, and played a game of charades, but that was offset by the excellent wait staff who never let my wine glass become less than half full. The worst part about the holiday office party? Going to work the next morning and facing your other colleagues who were a bit more restrained in their celebrating than I was. The stories they tell are blasphemy, I'm sure. Allegedly I become a bit of a flirt when I drink. That's always worth a few odd looks in the morning. (Hey Liza, give me a call, we should hang out sometime.)

Ali, the coolest mutherfucker I work with in the style of George Clooney, and I rocked it long long after our other coworkers had gone home. Here's a mental picture for you as described to me by my boss in an email this morning: Ali and I were step dancing with a group of Howard University students outside the MCI Center in downtown DC trying to catch a cab, in the rain, at one in the morning. Of course, I reminded my boss that her and I had been swing dancing in the middle of the bar moments earlier. That's the kind of dirt that will get you a promotion. Happy Holidays to all and happy drinking.

Anyone got any Pepto?