Company Christmas Party

The husband's holiday shindig was last night at soime hoity-toity restaurant out of town, so we conned a relative into watching the monkeys and headed out for some rare interaction among adults. It was already decided in advance that I would be the one driving, giving the husband full license to take advantage of the open bar, so I figured it would make for an interesting night.

We walked in and made our rounds, smiling and mingling with people we barely know, standard holiday party fodder. The appetizers were slightly odd...bruscetta consisted of bread with tuna and anchovies. I had one piece and didn't find out about the anchovies until after the fact. I still feel dirty. Where can a girl get some normal garlic bread with cheese around here? Clearly, I am too white trash for such an establishment.

The place had high ceilings, and it looked like there may have been a mezzanine at some point, as there were a couple of spots in the corners where it had been sectioned off with wrought iron gating. Behind the gates, there sat a giant antique pot that had to be four feet tall.

K: [pointing] "What the fuck is THAT?"
H: [staring] "Storage up there maybe?"
K: "I dunno...what's the deal with the cage?"
H: [snickers] "Maybe that's where they have dancing on weekends."
K: "Yeah, when this town goes to shit, this will be a strip bar and there will be cage dancing nightly."
H: "Maybe even bukkake shows."
K: "One can hope."

The husband's female boss directed us all to start sitting down for dinner. It was then that we were informed that we wouldn't be sitting at the table, but at the bar. Basically, everyone under 35 was relegated to the bar.

K: "We have to sit at the bar? No big table for us, huh?"
H: "Apparently so."
K: "Oh well, I haven't sat at the kiddie table in years. This will be fun."
H: "Hey, at least we're close to the alcohol!"

Husband was already 3 drinks deep, so this development was fantastic as far as he was concerned.

We sat and female boss started distributing gourmet cookies with little "Merry Christmas" tags attached. As soon as I got mine, I started to snicker.


K: "What the fuck...kiddie table AND cookies?"
H: "Check out his arms...they're like stumps. Jerry's Snowmen."

[hysterical "we're so going to hell" laughter]

K: "What's up with his broom? It looks like he splooged all over it."
H: "Snowman Bukkake?"

[more laughter]

Only we would come into a classy restaurant and make 2 bukkake jokes withing the first half hour. You can't take us anywhere.

At the bar, we had fancy holiday cocktail napkins.

This was particularly funny, since two of the owners of the company have this tiny little teacup poodle that they take to work because "She can't be alone!" The thing shits everywhere and will lift its leg to anything more than an inch off the ground. She also picks through the trash. They actually had to start feeding her some kind of gourmet granola because she "wasn't well", which is probably because she regularly digs through the trash and eats all the leftovers from lunch.

Anyway, the dog is hated by the men of the company, and husband fights off daily urges to squish it under his shoe. We were all expecting professional photos of the dog under the Christmas tree, but napkins would apparently have to do.

We were sitting next to a perfectly normal-looking couple at the bar. The husband, Trevor, works for the company, so we all ended up in conversation. Apparently, Trevor and his wife are from the Midwest, and are a bit red-neckish. Trevor commented that his bedroom had been in the crawlspace under the house before he left home.

K: "Wait...the crawlspace?"
Wife: "There were SPIDERS! Can you imagine?"
K: "Uh, no, I can't actually."
T: "Big spiders too. And every spring, my bedroom flooded."
K: [stares]

Dinner came, and it was fairly fancy shmancy. The restaurant's specialty is whatever meat they can cook in some wood stove that they have, and I opted for the steak. Husband had the pork, and Trevor had the venison. A few bites in, Trevor looked distressed.

H: "How's the meat, Trevor?"
T: "Kinda dry..."
H: "Really?"
T: [summons waiter] "Could I get some ketchup?"

The waiter, the husband and I all stared at him in shock. This is the kind of place where the average dinner for two would be over a hundred bucks easy, classy by our standards. I seriously doubted that they would stock Heinz or A1.

W: "Ketchup? I guess I can check." [disappears into the kitchen. I swear I thought I heard laughter from behind the door]

The waiter returned with the sad news that ketchup nor steak sauce were kept in the kitchen. Trevor unhappily finished his meat and excused himself to get some air a short time later.

K: "Where's HE going?"
H: "He's probably walking across the street to the pizza place to find ketchup."
K: "Knocking back a few packets perhaps?"

It was at this point the husband was pretty well liquored up and hitting his comedic stride.

H: [pretending to hold a ketchup packet to his lips] "I'll suck yo' dick for some ketchup!"

If you're seen Boyz n the Hood, you'll get the joke. If not, just trust me, it was a funny comment, and probably true. Trevor came back into the restaurant looking somewhat relieved. It was all we could do to control our snickers. We toasted to finding a couple that's more white trash than us and continued on with our evening.

The rest of the night was uneventful. Trevor ordered Tiramisu for dessert, and we informed him in all seriousness that this was not a food that you can put ketchup on. He didn't think it was quite as funny as we did. After dessert, we said our goodbyes and headed out. We'd already been gone 5 whole hours, and we were certain that we would return to find that the children had burned the house down if we stayed any longer.