I don't even like my office Christmas party. I work with about 70 people, 60 of whom are women. I go because : a) I am afraid I will miss something really good, like someone gets drunk and does the gator, or one of my bosses gets photo'd with his tongue somewhere it shouldn't be.
b) I don't want to be the one they talk about...you have to protect yourself by your own presence.
c) Our Christmas bonuses are handed out at the party, I think they do this so we are forced into personally thanking each and every one of the bosses...
But, its free food, albeit the fruitcake of party foods; chicken fingers, artichoke dip and worst of all...CASH bar! I had to pay for the worst wine I ever tasted. It was pink and fruity and tasted like it would have the words berry berry fruit farm and boone on the label.
I do, though, get to dress up, something I love to do but rarely get a chance. I will do almost anything have an excuse to wear high heels, although they come off after about 2 hours of pain. Anyway, Larry so kindly offered to go with me to my party. The party itself is bad enough, but he has never met one soul that I work with. And... knowing that he was just being nice and that I already promised my recently divorced friend I would go with her...he was spared the torture. I know he breathed a sigh of relief when I said he didn't have to. But he offered nevertheless. I wish I had taken him and I wish he had seen me in my pretty high heels. But I love him for offering.
2 comments:
This indeed makes him a man after my own heart, too. It takes a special sort to be willing to sacrifice an evening of one's life like that! Without even being asked!?!
Fenchurch goes to a lot of places that I really don't think she wants to. I even always give her the option, an "out" there for the taking. It's rarely taken. She's good.
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