Belated Party
You gotta love this. The geniuses in management decided not to throw a Christmas party (whoops...that's not PC...) Holiday Party back when it was, oh, the holiday season, and have decided rather than just forego the damn thing altogether, to have it the third Friday in January.
I, for one, am no longer in a holiday mood. I don't know about you, but the last damn thing I feel like doing is going to a holiday party in January. For the love of god, I just got my Visa bill in mail totaling the results of Holiday Shopfest 2005. If that's not enough to take you completely out of a holiday mood, then nothing is.
When polled, several coworkers asked if we could just have money instead of the party. You know, like a holday bonus. Nope. We're determined to spend the money and make you happy the way we want, dammit, and you're gonna like. Or, not go.
So, about 95 people have RSVP'd that they would be there. Management now wants to send out an e-mail to everyone that if they sent in an RSVP and don't show, that they are financially responsible for their meal. So, let me get this straight: if I tell you I'm coming to the party, and my kid gets sick, forcing me to stay home, I have to pay for a crappy meal that I didn't want to eat in the first place? Behold, people! The genesis of a Dilbert cartoon!
So, it's set. The holiday party is going forward. To their credit, they have some cool prizes. The grand prize is two plane tickets to anywhere in domestic US. They are giving away a few iPod Nanos, and other miscelleous crap. It's bound to be fun, though the wife can't go this year because we can't get a babysitter for the new kid (in other words, her parents are busy that night). I'm thinking she doesn't really want to go anyway. Which is cool. I'm gonna hit it and make an appearance. Besides, I know the woman in charge of the drink tickets. (Can I get a Woohoo! from the kids in the back row?) And, you can damn sure bet I'm gonna eat my chicken cordon bleu.
-la
I, for one, am no longer in a holiday mood. I don't know about you, but the last damn thing I feel like doing is going to a holiday party in January. For the love of god, I just got my Visa bill in mail totaling the results of Holiday Shopfest 2005. If that's not enough to take you completely out of a holiday mood, then nothing is.
When polled, several coworkers asked if we could just have money instead of the party. You know, like a holday bonus. Nope. We're determined to spend the money and make you happy the way we want, dammit, and you're gonna like. Or, not go.
So, about 95 people have RSVP'd that they would be there. Management now wants to send out an e-mail to everyone that if they sent in an RSVP and don't show, that they are financially responsible for their meal. So, let me get this straight: if I tell you I'm coming to the party, and my kid gets sick, forcing me to stay home, I have to pay for a crappy meal that I didn't want to eat in the first place? Behold, people! The genesis of a Dilbert cartoon!
So, it's set. The holiday party is going forward. To their credit, they have some cool prizes. The grand prize is two plane tickets to anywhere in domestic US. They are giving away a few iPod Nanos, and other miscelleous crap. It's bound to be fun, though the wife can't go this year because we can't get a babysitter for the new kid (in other words, her parents are busy that night). I'm thinking she doesn't really want to go anyway. Which is cool. I'm gonna hit it and make an appearance. Besides, I know the woman in charge of the drink tickets. (Can I get a Woohoo! from the kids in the back row?) And, you can damn sure bet I'm gonna eat my chicken cordon bleu.
-la
posted by Lex Armenia at 8:41 AM
1 Comments:
Man, that sucks it hardcore.
I'd load up on drink tickets and be sure to boot into some executive's trophy wife's cleavage. That'll show them. What it will show them, I'm unsure, but damn, it will show them something.
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