Well, looks like Tefft picked the right theme for year's office holiday party after all. The party couldn't have been more apocalyptic...
Not for everyone. Just me.
Sorry, the blog is a little long today, but a lot of shit went down last night...
The party was held in one of the large ballrooms at the Red Lion Hotel with 6 tables of appetizers set up at one end, a stage with a DJ at the other end, and full bars positioned in each corner of the expansive hall.
At 7:00 sharp, a cavalcade of young aspiring actors and actresses pretending to be servers came crashing through the double doors with your choice of a fish or chicken plate. The food was average, but nobody was here for the food.
At my table sat Gladstone, Conklin, Petrizzo, McKinney, Kessler, and a few miscellaneous staffers. We were all having a conversation, but rarely did we look at each other. Our eyes were darting back and forth like pin-balls racking up points between two bumpers. Women looked depraved and immoral and ready to go.
So we drank for a while, then went our separate ways.
At about 10:00 p.m., Gladstone sent me a text from one of the hotel rooms asking me to call him in five minutes. He was up there with Carol the Auditor and needed an excuse to get out. He'd say it was his dying mother or something. I responded no problem, then forgot about him for the rest of the night. He apparently went to McKinney next, who was much more reliable.
Kessler ended up on the roof of the Red Lion at about 11:00 p.m. with Beth the Systems Analyst. He saw Gladstone up there, who was now with Maria from Hardlines. I don't know how they did it up there without freezing their nuts off.
Petrizzo was gone by 9:00 p. m. I still haven't heard from him.
McKinney spent the night interviewing women for his 3D porn shoot. He said he rallied some interest from a few very promising parties.
Conklin didn't touch another woman; he wouldn't even go out on the dance floor. He's the most faithful husband on the planet even though his wife is the most faithless slut on the planet. Which is probably why he got drunk off his ass with about eight shots of Jager, puked for an hour in the women's rest room, stumbled outside and then passed out in the bushes. I haven't seen him today either, so hopefully he's alive.
Smithee, the new interim Director, apparently made the rounds even though he does not exist. People kept coming up to me, in drunken stupors, telling me how awesome my new boss is. I kept hearing rumors about the various women who were seen leaving with him. For a guy who doesn't exist, he sure did get a lot of pussy last night.
And then there was me... I was careful to know where Blair was at all times so that she wouldn't catch me looking at, talking to, or even thinking about another woman. From across the room, I caught Lucia's eyes, which were saying fuck me now as she made her way outside. I started in that direction, but got pulled aside by Pangbourn, the paranoid Sr VP of Marketing. He started talking to me, but I didn't hear one word because he reminded me that although he's only paranoid, there really is someone who wants to kill me. And what better opportunity to take me out than at a party like this? I'm drinking heavily, my guard is down, everyone else is busy getting drunk or laid... I started watching people to see who might be watching me. I figured the only way to get past this was to drink more. I had two shots of Tequila.
I then ran into Triplet, who said alcohol was not the answer. She said that it only increases the depression and that a person with my condition should not be drinking. I told her I would go outside and call the Suicide Hotline immediately.
I finally made it outside, but it had been about a half hour since Lucia had gone out. By the time I got to the designated hedge, Lucia was already shaking the branches with someone else. It was that little fucker Tanner from Bible Study. He's an Assistant Manager for Toys and a real uptight, bible-thumping asshole. I guess Thursday at noon is for reading the holy scriptures, but Thursday night at 10:00 is for adultery and fornication.
I said fuck it, I was already behind schedule anyway. I was supposed to be in Wheels' hotel room about that time.
When I got there, Wheels was ready for me. She was wearing some hot little red stringy thing from Victoria's Secret, had alcohol and music and was ready to go. So was my drug-induced stiffy. But before we got down to business, her phone rang. She answered, hung up quickly and jumped out of bed.
"You have to get out of here. My husband is coming up."
"What's he doing here?" I asked.
"I told him I was going to get a room so that I didn't have to drive drunk, and he said he'd come spend the night with me. I didn't think it would be so soon."
That's just swell... So Stiffy and I walked down the hallway dejected again and I thought: it's time to find Athena the Lesbian.
I went to Athena the Lesbian's room and found her there with Jane from Softlines. Apparently Jane from Softlines is also a lesbian, just not the Greek kind. And apparently Athena the Lesbian in her drunken state had decided to see what these other lesbians were all about.
"I'm down with that," I said, as any man would and walked over to the bed.
"You don't understand," Jane from Softlines said in a gruff, now more recognizably lesbian voice. "I don't get within 50 yards of a boner."
I looked at Athena the Lesbian, who seemed like a puppy choosing between two masters.
"You can't have sex with another woman," I said. "You're a Lesbian. Not a lesbian."
"Exactly," she said. "Having sex with another woman one time doesn't make me a lesbian. I'm just a curious Lesbian. But not a lesbian."
I don't blame her for her choice, I mean, after all, she was about to get pussy for the first time. Granted, I'd like to watch a Lesbian having sex with a lesbian for the first time, but Jane from Softlines has her rules... Sooner or later Athena the Lesbian will miss Stiffy and come back. But not tonight.
I then spent the next hour trying to get Blair away from Szymanski who had been spending the previous hour trying to get her drunk so that he could lay some pipe. Blair loved every second of this, never intending to fuck around with Szymanski, just intending to fuck around with my head. But drunk as I was, I didn't realize this was the case. And since I was zero for three so far, I was not going to lose Blair to Szymanski the man-whore, so I pretty much provided all the humiliating entertainment she was looking for.
Once I got her away and up to her room safe and sound, ready for bed and ready for action, she puked her guts out. She laid down on the bed and watched the room spin for twenty minutes, then passed out.
Zero for four.
At about 2:00 A.M., Stiffy and I sat on the step outside the ballroom smoking a cigarette. I'm not a smoker, but if I drink enough, I can suck a couple down. I was drunk, horny, and depressed all at once.
But then, right when I found myself in the deepest, darkest pit of despair, a light emerged from the hotel; a divine image appeared, like an angel here to collect the surviving souls after the apocalypse had finished its last round of destruction...
I looked up and saw Blendi the Virgin standing over me with a drunken smile on her pure little face. She was the cutest Licensing Coordinator in the company. And apparently a virgin.
"I know you," she said. "You're the I.T. guy."
"I know you too," I said. "You're Blendi the Virgin."
"Ha ha. That's what they call me. How come you never talk to me?"
"Well..." I said. "I guess because you're a virgin."
"Not all of me is a virgin. And it looks like you could use some help down there."
She pointed to Stiffy. I guess she was just drunk enough to find it humorous rather than freaky, like anyone sober would. I looked into her eyes and felt spiritual for a moment. It's not every day you run across someone this pure and innocent. And then she went down on me.
So even the apocalypse can have a happy ending. Last night, I witnessed my own Christmas miracle with my own Virgin Mary named Blendi. It was truly inspirational. And I'll tell you this here and now: Blendi the Virgin's mouth should be in a circus act.
So my entire plan for the evening was a disaster and I didn't hook up with anyone I intended to hook up with when I formulated the plan yesterday. But so what? After all, the office holiday party is all about meeting new people, right?