The Party

First of all, who decided that having a Booze Cruise for a company party would be a good idea?  And then who took that further and decided that cheese, crackers and shrimp cocktail would be enough food to keep the guests from getting completely drunk?  Because guess what, whoever it was is crazy for thinking that.  Luckily, no one got out of control drunk.

Except for one girlfriend who ended up passes out on a couch in front of everyone and then had a bunch of construction guys pose for photos with her.  All I can is that I’m glad it wasn’t me.

Wes has been playing on a softball team with some guys from work and I watch their games becasue, well, we only have one car so I don’t have much of a choice.  Oh, and I love cheering on my boyfriend in the cold.  Really, I do.  On their team is a guy who I don’t particularly like.  He played soccer with us and was just awful to be around.  He hogged the ball, took the game way too seriously and if he didn’t like how he was playing he simply left.  And took the nets with him because he was the only one with a truck.

The first game of the softball season I went and was the only person out there cheering them on.  I was laughing with whicgh ever two players happened to be in the dugout at the time while the Asshole-of-Epic-Proportions tried his best to get the softball across the plate, which he failed at more times than he succeded.  At one point in the game he looks my way and says, “It’s really hard to pitch with that annoying laugh over there.”  So caught off gaurd was I that I didn’t get to say what I really wanted, which was: “You can’t seem to pitch period, asshole” and instead said, “Wow, that was a real dick thing to say.”

After that inning he came over and tried to make a joke out of it, even slapping my leg in a good-natured just-joking sort of way.  I was having none of it because, dude, you’re an asshole more times that you’re not so fuck off.  But smiled along because he works with my boyfriend and I’m not really into making things more difficult at work for my him.

But then, come to find out that the next day at work he’s telling people that “she needs a muzzle put on her”.  Which Wes hears and Asshole-of-Epic-Proportions basically tells him to do it.  To which Wes replies, “Tell her yourself.  She’ll fucking kick your ass.” Oh, and I really would like to.  Especially when I found out.  At the party.  After a glass of champagne and wine.  I was so fired up for a confrontation.  I’m the only person out there cheering them on – not even his bitch girlfriend could come along – and he wants to insult me.  On top of that, what a dick thing to say.

But instead of storming out of my chair and making a scene I decide that all night I will laugh whatever annoying laugh I can come up with any time he is near.  And I do just that.  I even get other wives/girlfiriends/fiancees to join me.  Of course he doesn’t understand what’s going on – that everyone here is mocking him; that the bosses like Wes over him; that the wives/girlfriends/fiancees are chosing me over his girlfriend.  He instead looks at whoever is near him and says, “Oh, that laugh.”

Yes, I’m still fired up.  And I still want him to try some friendly conversation at the next gamge.  But I’m content to know that his life suks.  He sucks.  And my laugh?  Well, I’m pretty fond of it so he can go fuck himself.

Okay, that wasn’t all there was to the party.  But that was the main party.  Afterwards a group of us moved to the bar for more beer.  And Irish Carbombs.  I talked to more wives and heard one story of a couple living in Utah.  The wife was at the grocery store with her kids and she was approached by another couple.  I can’t remember the small details of how it started, but they invited her to enter into a polygamous marriage.  She grabbed her kids and went directly home and started packing.  She told me that if her husband didn’t want to leave she was leaving without him.  Apparently he did because they’re still married.

And then, suddenly, all the alcohol of the night seemed to hit me at once  and I sat staring at my barely-drank beer.  It was only 11:30 but we decided to call it a night.  The one great thing about having a booze-based party with little food?  They had to get hotel rooms for everyone to bring a little safety to the evening.

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