Trials and Tribulations of an Office Outing

These sort of soiree's occur roughly 2-3 times a year and receive much internal attention from employees and sometimes externally from mildly unfortunately +1's. The employees are half excited, half forced to go, and the +1's, if its an open event, try to find common ground on unfamiliar territory. I wont speak from a first person point of few, but rather for these events as a whole, as I believe the parallels between one and another are vast and in a granular state of congruency.

Whether it's a holiday party, summer outing, or the classic "off-site" work day, the same events occur. Alcohol is inevitably involved augmented by relaxed or non-typical attire. There is a focus on group activities and getting to know one another garnished with laughter and jaunting awkwardness. There may be a game which only makes the fact that people know each other less than we thought, more transparent.

Don't get me wrong - these events are a major step up from the monotony of the work day. I'd much rather converse with our VP about sailing, biking, scotch or clothing than about how I missed the mark on revenue for the 3rd consecutive month and I am one step away from getting tarred and feathered and dragged through the office building lobby. Without fail, a casual conversation will divert into a mildly interesting business discussion, relieving you of the pressure of having to talk candidly and not be too forthcoming.

The Conversations: 
They start off non-existent as you look around the room, talking to the regular 4-5 office folks you do on a daily basis. You commiserate lightly about work and comment nonchalantly on the event at hand, commending those few who took the time to plan, organize, and invite. The first glass of wine, purchasable with pocket lint, but dressed in a fancy napkin to hide the label enters your body igniting a fire, and scratches the itch that you have to always drink around these people. A slanted transition is made from work talk to friendly banter that pokes and prods the threshold of comfortability. Insert questions about where you are living and if you have a significant other.
While talking with a female she tells a story about last weekend and mentions that her and her "girlfriend" went pumpkin picking. You bite your tongue and hold onto this piece of information like your playing a fucking game of clue. You think you just solved the office mystery and found that ______ is a lesbian. Turns out, after you started an office-wide rumor, that she is not in fact a lesbian and only has one girlfriend named Connie who has been her best friend for 18 years. Not that anything is wrong, if she is a lesbian, but you just thought you went all Dan Brown and da vinci coded this shit.

Wine turns to whiskey and whiskey back to wine corrupting your insides and guiding you toward the tinted light of inappropriate behavior. People are starting to become "risk takers" and divulge information about their past employers/employees and leisurely likes and dislikes.

Levels of Drunk: 
1. The non-drinker - Confident that they are distinguished and above all in the group, praying for a drunk idiot to point fun at. While boring at times its overall not a bad move for a work outing.
2. The sipper - Casually taking sips from a drink that is essentially a hi-c juice box until it becomes so warm that its uncomfortable to hold. The sipper still holds onto it because lord knows they are not getting another.
3. The casual drinker - This is a the just married, or locked-down relationship person. The individual is having a couple drinks to "wind down" and plans to go back to their significant other to say "I didn't drink, I just wanted to relax," This is great, it avoids confrontation with the annoyingly jealous bf/gf/wife/husband and keeps you on an even keel with co-workers.
4. College drinker - This person is a new hire who is recently out of college and can still drink like a frat wrestler on cocaine. They are putting back a good amount of drinks but are hardly phased by the consumption. Occasionally they get a bit out of hand and make fun of someone above them in the hierarchy, but are new enough to not push the boundaries.
5. One-too-many - This is typically a VP or mid-level employee who has decided that the work week was stressful and they are going to put back one-extra beverage. Their conversations will now suck. They try to talk about work but are wrong in their responses, and try to talk about outside activities but the stories don't really "make sense."
6. Taking it to the "level" - This can be any employee who decides, fuck it. Or, they really don't value their job. Or, they are comfortable enough in their position that they could take a shit on the boat deck and still have a place to sit the next morning.
7. Terminator - This employee will no longer have a job the following day, or when regular working hours begin. They pre-gamed the event, had 4-5 drinks over their natural limit, physically accosted a colleague in a higher position, ate something that was not food, drank something that contained their own urine, and simply could not speak and form words to defend themselves.





  The Finer Things: 
We all get a little looser at these things, let our personalities out and throw our inhibitions to the wind a bit. It is part of the reason these events are held and it is certainly healthy. There are just some funny things that happen. You may find yourself making fun of someone whom you have not priorly spoken to - great. One thing that I like to observe is the end of the night "goodbye." The effervescent liquor drinks are doing the merengue inside your stomach making you act like a prepubescent teen eating rock candy. You have now spent 4 hours with people you would ignore at a grocery store if you saw them at the end of the isle and they didn't spot you. The night is ending, its time to part ways and see each other in 12 hours. This is where the hugging begins. You begin saying adios to these people you are going to see immediately upon waking up tomorrow. They are one step away from sleeping over. The same person who you have been dodging emails from and holding in piss for the rare chance that you run into them in the bathroom...you are now intertwined in each others arms like newlyweds. If the waitress was to come around with one more free shot there is a 60% chance you may tongue kiss that person on the way out.

Your boss is hammered and slurring his/her words. You're very much inebriated and worried about missing your favorite show. You leave, hugging fucking everyone, and call it a good night. Good news is everyone now know what each co-workers favorite color and animal is...and you may have fucked the front desk attendant. Fun.  - As a caveat none of this happened on my company outing....

Baby bump, Baby-Baby-Baby- Bump

"Congrats! Oh my jesus H fuckjuice - you have a baby bump!"
- While the comment comes out less crude than I have so elegantly displayed above of course, I dry heave into my medium sized blue recycling bin.

The female-strong office is erupting in prenatal excitement. The males put on that half-grin, just-ate-a-shit particle look on their face to try to appeal to the sounds of joy, while harnessing pure cold-blooded despise for those commiserating around them. I am going to try to not enter this in a male-bias manner, although that may lye outside the realm of reality.

"Can I touch it?"
"How far along are you?"
"See, its okay to be fat for a while!"

These are are the comments that are expatiated from the mouths of those who see a co-worker that isn't often around the office. Can I touch it? No fucking thank you. There is a living, vile, alien looking creature who was forced to inhabit a uterus, and expand a stomach by two people who thought it was time to take birth control out back and shoot it in the face. Not to mention it is still the first trimester for this belly show-off, and that bulge is 98% liquid. I can't help but to picture an excessive pen-poke resulting into an desk area explosion of processed food, stomach acid, and person matter. I know thats a bit of sci-fi farfetchedness, but it is making my non-pregnant stomach near an irritable bowl movement.



Take a look at gorgeous Nick Lachey here. He looks terrified, his face is wrinkling - he is losing thousands of dollars by the second. If they have to retake that picture he is going to have to work one year longer, and their guest room will surely be smaller. 

This is not a post to bash childbirth, after all, I am here due to its premise. It is just that the state of being pregnant is not flauntingly attractive, or interesting to an audience of the masses. Its a good thing in the long run, kind of like removing a planters wart from your foot, but doesn't mean you go around showing people the scar hole it left. You can BE pregnant, and have a baby bump, perhaps even talk about/show off that likely mossy mound in the comfort of your own home. Do this with girlfriends, or mothers, likely your father is vehemently opposed to its appearance as well. Do NOT bring that runway show to the office. Where a shawl, loose garments, work from home. They advise you not to travel when intoxicated with baby...so take it easy, stay in the basement like Powder.

Mating and Starving

Eating healthy is becoming overly unhealthy. Admittedly, I have fallen victim to this health food/weight neuroticism sweeping over the country to some extent. I may skip an extra slice of pizza or hold on another dash of salt. It has not stricken all of us, or even many of us judging by the 15 fat fucks i had to dip and dive around while getting off the train. It is however, entering the work force and our everyday lives with an alarming annoyance, like the perpetual sounds of birds mating in the early morning.

You have probably noticed this choice starvation taking place, perhaps you have even seen it start small and escalate. I am not talking about eating disorders, although this is certainly a start, and much much, more annoying. If a chick walks up to me and says she likes to launch her two bone fingers to the back of her throat to induce vomit, fine by me. If wrestler or swimmer male decides he is going to go "Ghandi" and fast for fucking eight weeks completely...excellent, rock out. This epidemic that I am talking about is the over-healthy, label reading, diet pressure pointers inhabiting menus, grocery stores and workplaces.

Each day another greasy haired pimple popper is firing up this fad. Going for a morning run, eating a moderate amount of calories, and sleeping right doesn't suffice. Those partaking in the cult feel the need to read every article they can google, judge the microprint on labels, and eat like a bird to get to the "proper" physical state. You must see it!?

It goes in stages. First, you begin researching, finding things you should avoid eating and make minor adjustments to wheat pasta or 2% milk. The articles start becoming bookmarks, and maybe you subscribe to a weight loss magazine and spend 20 bucks a weak on lean cuisines for lunches. The progression continues to support groups, others who have been on this hike a bit longer than you, the veteran bird food eaters as I like to call them. You get support from them which feels nice, but they also inform you that you are going about it all wrong; the lean cuisine is too high in sodium, silk milk (soy) is the only way to go, and cous-cous is the new pasta. You'r really on a roll now and bananas that may cause colon cancer if eaten at a certain frequency have been replaced by some guava fruit you can only buy at whole foods 3 months  year. Lunch is never purchased, but always brought since "you know how to do it best." The tupperware is filled with a fig, seven shreds of arugula, dried chicken breast (1/2 breast) and an orange peel. There is less flavor in that container than a 7-month old tea bag sitting on a Boston Commons park bench.

People are intrigued by your dish, which excites you - its now your time to shine...or recruit if you will. You talk about your weight loss, but even more, you talk about how you feel that much better than before. You're a new person, rejuvinated and alive. You're fucking starving. It isn't enough for you to just let people know how great you feel and project your insecurities onto others. You have to go further. You start to assess others meals with a scientific eye. You break down every calorie, carb, saturated fat and grain. By the end of your critique the person you have judged is left to feel they are about to bite into an aids patients fecal matter.Fun fucking lunch.

The months roll on, the pounds fall off like flaking skin from a Venezuelan sunburn. Unfortunately, the cult has taken over fully and you are now enjoying nutrients or lack thereof an eroded tree bark morsel and sand crystal water. Your skin is dry, your hair is greasy, your pits smell like Europe from the weak ass Tom's deoderant you are using and you are still fucking starving. Your food chart looks like an IV bag.

So for anyone who is "eating healthy" - take it easy. And, if you want to go fucking Rambo on a diet and turn into a fucking pilgrim, do it on your own time. Do no interrupt my meals, critique my coffee with half and half and real goddamn sugar. Just sit there with your sticks and grass, and vitamin cocktails and shut the fuck up. By the way, for anyone in my office on this food trip; i have been infusing the decaf Keurig cups with a shot of protein, salt, sugar, barley, wheat, heroin, butter, and bread dust. Fucking enjoy.