Happy "National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day," Tators! However, because I have to yet again conquer the laundry monster that has taken up residence by my Whirlpool washing machine, I cannot observe this day. But, since Carl-E will not, positively, absolutely, anytime, anywhere consume a left-over, my fridge is pretty much empty, except for Parmesan cheese, ketchup, chocolate chip low-fat cookies, six pack of Fosters, and a bag of spinach.
So...
Thursday evening, Carl-E and I attended a casual semi-work related function at a local cigar bar. I was very excited, since I had a hankering for a favored martini and I was jonesin' to got out and be social. When we arrived, the place was jumpin'. There were all shapes and sizes of cubical dwellers. We met up with some of Carl-E's employees, and began to chat it up.
Well...
About an hour in to the night, and one and half pear-berry yummy martinis, I was approached by this chickie. She grabs my arm, and whispers to me in her loudest, beer infused voice possible, "My friends want to meet your cute friends." Upon inspection and observation, I really doubt that her eyes were naturally crossed, and that she spoke with a slight slur. Or, maybe she was dropped on her head several times as an infant, your guess is as good as mine.
Anywho...
She was nice enough despite being a way too close talker, so I agreed to introduce everyone; except for Carl-E (NOTE: I explained in my best nice-Jersey girl wearing a large gleaming smile, that Carl-E was my boo and that if any ho' tried to spit game at him, they would get bee-otched slapped like a step-child) She got the hint VERY clear.
Next...
While everyone is conversing, I get pulled from the group by the drunk girl. She yells at me, "I need to talk to you, follow me." Before I could protest, she grabs my hand and, we go to the Ladies' room. She shuts the door (NOTE: It was one of those one-at-a-time jobs). Now that there is no noise, she whispered in a barely audible voice, "This guy came up to me and said, 'I think we would have great sex.' What should I do?" I quickly came back with , "Well, is he hot?" She replied, "No." To this I shared my infinite wisdom, "Then there is no problem." It was like light bulb clicked, she glared at me with those glassy, crossed-eyes and whispered, "You're so right!" and with that, she dropped trou and proceeded to pee. How do I get myself into these situations?
After...
My confereance in the WC, I returned to my table. Not even five minutes back, when I feel myself being jerked towards the door by guess who. "OK," she slurred with just the right touch of spittle, "You see that guy over there" I think she was pointing at the skinny guy, in the very bad brown siut, but she kept wabbling and her finger kept moving like she was having an internal earthquake, "He stuck his tounge down in my mouth last week, now he thinks we are going home together." Once again, I let my knowledge flow from my mouth like sweet spring water, "Just tell him, 'So sorry, but no go.'" "You are so right!" she said, and took off in seach of a cigeratte.
I...
walked back inside and Carl-E said, "I see you made a new friend." And just as I was about to answer, there she was agin. This time she leaned over and yelled in my ear while pointing her beer at one of Carl-E's employees friends, "What his deal?" I just smiled, turned to the frind, and inquired, "What's your deal?" To this he answered, "I am not dating anyone serious." I turned back to her and said, "There you go!" Sometimes the direct approach is the best way to get the job done! They conversed, exchanged numbers, and from what I understand, they have a date; I think.
Now it is reflextion time...
Because Carl-E is the boss, we do not hang like we used to on Fridays. We used to go for happy hour every Friday, drink gallons of beer, and by the end of the night we would wind up at a club dancing until dawn. Oh the good times! But, as Carl-E moved up the corporate ladder, Friday happy hours became less and less because, well you cannot hang with the staff, because they would lose their healthy natural fear of their boss-man!
Because of this phnomenom, I totaly forgot how hard buisness people par-they! They are couped up in their cubes all week, crunchin' numbers, staring at a computer screen trying to sneak a peak at their Facebook page, eating bad microwavable food that has been in the communal fridge for over a year, consuming large amount of caffeine to stay awake (NOTE: We do have this in common), being yelled at by a guy that calls you, "Sweetie" because he does not even know your real name, meeting deadlines that cannot be met because everything is due last week, and trying to catch the Fed Ex man to get the color, spiral bound, 250+ page proposal to Canada by 6am the next morning. When they finally are freed; they go ape-shee-ite! I am extremely surprised that no one got on the table and began to shake their money makers! So, if you want to watch the mating rituals of the so-called white-collared, find a cigar bar, order a lip lickin' martini, sit back, and the fizzed up corporate-types. It is a total hoot!
It is so worth it!
And I am past my ETA!
Fizzed Up
When someone has gone extremely over the limits on alcohol.
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