Monday, December 17, 2001


We Are Family
Love Shack
Play That Funky Music
Who Let The Dogs Out

Christmas is here and that means countless lame office parties held in bland hotel conference rooms. People dress up, get drunk and stuff themselves with trays of chicken filets, pasta salads and beefy slabs from the carving table. Hotel decorations includes tablecloths, brownish walls and flower centerpieces big enough to let one side of the table ignore the other. The dance floor is a fold-up job that's taped down around the edges and comes equipped with DJs who play Christmas songs and ballads during dinner. When enough booze is consumed, the DJs switch to the crowd pleasers listed above (what are your favorites?). Finally, a few ladies go up to dance by themselves. Like sirens of mythical historical fiction, they sway and tease and eventually lure the fat guys in suits onto the dancefloor. After a few more drinks and Motown favorites, it's a sweat fest as everyone lines up to grind hip to hip as they Get on That Party Train. Yo ho ho.

I hate hotel Christmas parties. They make me sad. I know, somebody spent time putting things together and they mean well, but these parties are just so damn boring. I can't decide if they're boring because I'm married, sitting in a room of married people who don't really know each other but are trying to be on their best behaviour (except for the dancing) or because there's no sense of surprise. A good party should have surprises. When I was younger, surprises meant lots of interesting girls to hit on (and be hit on by). Being married, I think something different is in order now. Cash prizes? The inclusion of children? Setting the party at a mini go-kart track and letting everyone race around all night? Whatever is it, I don't think convention hotels offer it.

Sorry, just my kvetch of the day.

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