company party

Most people complain about having to go to the annual “company holiday party” as a not-fun, torturous thing to do. Working at the Alley, that’s not a problem. First of all, the party is held each year at Treebeard’s. We have the whole restaurant (upstairs) to ourselves. The grub is good. The drinks are flowing. No one wears stupid reindeer sweatshirts or Santa outfits. You don’t have to worry about Mel from accounting putting a lampshade on his head and making an ass of himself because Treebeards does not have lampshades, nor is there a guy named Mel in our accounting department. Also, everyone tends to drink copiously, AND we in the theatre know how to handle our liquor. Again, mostly.

The only drag to the company party is getting stuck in a conversation with someone you typically have no problem avoiding at work. Because too many random people read this, I shan’t go into more detail than that. Well, maybe a little. Suffice it to say, I had a conversation with someone tonight that was not fun. And if she had any fucking clue about body language and eye contact, she would have picked up on the fact that I was not enjoying listening to her spittle-ridden bullshit. Then again, if she were smart enough to pick up on that, maybe she wouldn’t be the walking death of boredom and regret that she is.

Man, that sounds bitchy. Anyway, for whatever reason, I feel the need to become friendly with people typically considered tough cookies. If someone is unfriendly and hard to reach, that’s who I want to talk to. Guess I don’t have enough challenges in my life. There’s an actor in the company who is one of these tough cookies. I invited him to sit at the bad kids’ table tonight, and he did so. We made a little ground. More to come. Whether he wants it or not.

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