Wednesday, December 05, 2007


Today was the deadline for RSVPing to the company’s Christmas party. I didn’t have to worry about it. As soon the invite was slapped down on my desk last week by the head of department, I glanced at the opening lines, skipped straight to the bottom, wrote my name in the space provided and, on the ‘I will be able/unable to attend...’ line, went for the latter option.

It was slung back on her desk before she even got back to it and such an immediate response surprised her so much that she swung back my way, sniffing around to find out why I wouldn’t be there. The simple answer would have been along the lines; “I don’t want to fucking well spend any more time with you mad-clown assholes than I strictly have to!” or “Quite frankly, I’d prefer to swallow a live round or two.”

Since she had her malevolent face on, looking like a petulant child angry at not having any more toys to throw, rather than the alternative – cackling hysterically like a hyena sucking down nitrous oxide, I scrabbled around for some bullshit excuses that seemed to keep her happy. That said, she still offered to get me another invite so I could reconsider my decision. And I considered looking for a big NO! rubber stamp to get the message across.

It didn’t help that the invite pretty much started off with “You will enjoy a Christmas celebration...” Will I? Will I really? Maybe I’m just bloody pigheaded at times, but when people tell me I’m going to have a good time I figure that I’ll be the judge of that.

Wasting an evening by standing around making small between sips of cheap wine and nibbling on tasteless, dried out canapés doesn’t really do it for me. This time of year especially, when the only safe subject people have to talk about in such company is the upcoming Christmas festivities.

Maybe, once fuelled by alcohol, a few may start bitching and moaning about the spectacular incompetence the management show on a daily basis. Or whine about the software we’re using, riddled with innumerable un-fixed bugs since the day it was installed, that it’s barely kept going by an IT department that rolled in, straight off the turnip truck. A few of us do that already when we nip outside for a gasper, so I don’t see the need for a repeat performance.

Anyway, the usual circle of friends - some of whom I haven’t actually seen since May– are getting together for a drink the day after the company party, starting in the afternoon. I wasn’t expecting to go, especially when it came to figuring out what state they’d be in by the time I would pitch up. But finding I have five holiday days to take before the year is out, maybe I’ll blow one to spend the day in the company of people I know.


At 6:49 pm, Blogger wcdixon said...

Bah freakin' humbug indeed!

Is it really that bad there (new workplace)?

At 11:29 pm, Blogger Good Dog said...

Will, oh, it's much worse...

Here's one thing I did there today. One of the bods was complaining that the IT department still hadn't managed to sort out why her keyboard didn't have a £ symbol. I wheeled my chair over and altered the keyboard setting to UK rather than US. And there it was...

If these guys decided to sail across the Atlantic, the boat would be taking on water before it left port.


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