Thursday, March 22, 2007

Number 6 With A Large Fries

It seems like all the things that I’ve really needed to know were never taught to me in school. Like how to fracture someone’s arm in three places, or exactly how much antifreeze one can consume before massive kidney failure and blindness sets in. I’m just saying, that’s the kind of thing that would have been good to kn0wsdsdba. Stupid Braille keyboard…

My company is having a “Friday at 4”…today. This is the kind of thing that could have given me an aneurism in the past trying to figure out. The “Friday at 4” event (inexplicably scheduled for a Thursday), offers open bar (with the exception of well drinks, fucking cheapskates) to all company employees for two hours. This is precisely the kind of event that I have had no training for.

The last such shindig had a few highlights. For starters, I work for a computer company. The majority of my coworkers are guys who thought that a fun Saturday night is playing Second-life until 4 am. To say that they are not experienced drinkers is like saying that Anna Nicole Smith was not a Rhodes Scholar.

What this amounted to was me ordering my third free drink before everyone had even arrived. Hey, I’m a corporate bitch working for a company that doesn’t believe in Christmas bonuses. One way or another, I was getting that fucking bonus even if I had to destroy my liver in the process. So I was about 6 beers deep by 4:30 or so, which was just the right amount of alcohol for me to decide that it was greatest idea ever to harass the C.E.O. into downing car bombs.

The exchange went something like this:

Me: You there! You inexplicably continue to employ me. Let me buy you a Car bomb.

C.E.O.: Is there anyway for me to get out of this without you thinking I’m a complete pansy?

Me: Of course. I wouldn’t think you were a complete pansy. Cough! Cough! Nancy! Cough!

Honestly, I think the only reason I still have a job is that everyone else in office has the alcohol tolerance of 90 year-old lupus victims. I’m just assuming that after the car-bomb, everyone else just blacked out. Which is why I find myself debating: Go to open bar, or not?

On one hand, there will be free booze. However, the odds of being terminated for calling the head of HR “a boy-loving, cock-sorcerer” skyrocket.

On the other, I could let the man win by not bankrupting the company on my bar-tab and live to collect another paycheck.

Sigh…I guess there’s always that counter-job at Wendy’s.
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1 comment:

Anonymous said...

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Street: 500 Bi-county Blvd
City/Town: Farmingdale
Zip/Postal Code: 11735