Ahhh, parties. Everyone loves parties, don't they? Well, usually they do, if they can remember them. Friday night was my Christmas party for work, oh sorry "Holiday party." I did not attend last year's party, because 1) It was too far away, 2) If I did go, I'd not be able to drink because I had to drive myself home, and 3) I was bored stiff the previous year, why put myself through that again. This year, however, I had some incentive to go.
The party was to be held at the Embassy Suites a couple blocks down the road from our office. My company offered to reimburse anyone wanting to book at room at the hotel, or they would cover cab fare home. Their reason for this was to keep a bunch of drunks off the road. They also decided to have a DJ this year, with dancing, and they were giving away ruffle prizes. Naturally, with everything they offered, I decided to attend the party and stay at the hotel afterwards, allowing me to get drunk if I chose to do so.
Those attending the party were allowed to leave work at 3:00 PM, to allow time to go home or wherever before cocktails started at 6:00 PM. I decided to drive to a KMart store nearby, looking for shoes. I don't like heels, and the black flats I've had for years were looking pretty ratty. I thought I might be able to find a relatively cheap pair at KMart. Unfortunately, the only ones they had were wide widths, which I don't need. So I left KMart empty-handed, heading back by our office building to the hotel to relax a bit before getting ready for the party.
The Embassy Suites is one of three hotels crammed next to each other with very little in between. There's a parking garage behind them, which they all share. Part of the parking garage is also general parking for the Convention Center that's across the street. The signs are not real clear (or at least not to me) regarding where to park for the Embassy Suites. I circled three times, and finally saw a co-worker that was on the party committee, so I asked her where to park. She directed me to the one section where the sign says $18, but that the hotel would pay for the parking. I turned around, for the third time, and went to park. There are signs all throughout the garage, indicating which spots are for which hotel, so I had to keep my eye open for open spots for Embassy Suites guests. I made my way to the second level and found a spot near the elevator and stairs.
I pushed the down button, waited, pushed it again, no light, pushed it again, gave up and decided to walk down the one flight of stairs. I checked into the hotel, they marked my parking stub as paid, and I went up to my room on the 5th floor. It was a suite, with a couch, a chair, two television sets, a king sized bed and of course a bathroom. I wandered around a bit, to see what was where, then at 5:00 PM I started getting ready for the party.
Just after 6:00 PM I made my way downstairs to the salon where our party was being held. I was one of the first few people there. I think maybe six people were there when I walked in. I spoke with a few, then made my way to the bar for a glass of wine. Slowly more people started showing up, I met the spouses of our salesmen, it was nice meeting these women that they talk about.
About 7:00 PM our president gave a brief speech, then we were allowed to go up to the buffet for dinner. Our choices were: Chicken breast, roast beef, and salmon, mashed potatoes (the lumpy kind made from real potatoes), salad, some vegetable that I don't remember, buns, some type of chowder soup and dessert. I was seated at a table with my boss, John, my co-worker Karen and her husband, Katie from our international dept and her husband, and my co-worker Mike and his wife. We had two empty seats, and there were two men sitting at the table next to us all alone, so I got up, walked over to them, and invited them to sit at our table. Their names were Tim, a salesman from our Detroit office, and Doug, a newer salesman who lives in Maryland and attended without his wife. By this time, I was working on my second glass of wine.
After dinner was over, the 10 year awards were handed out to a couple salesmen, I believe they get a whopping $250. Then they did the ruffle. Ever since the email first came out with the details of the party, we've been laughing over the ruffle. You see, all the members of the committee were foreigners to the US. Three were Japanese, and the other two were from South America. The person who sent out the email mistyped the word "raffle" and instead called it a "ruffle." So we were calling it a ruffle all week and all night, and correcting anyone who accidentally called it a raffle. During the ruffle, I got my third glass of wine. Naturally, I didn't win anything. However, every single member of the committee won something, lmao. Two other people at my table won something, but not me. I never win anything.
Next, the DJ started playing music and we were treated to a tango performance. I'm no expert, but in my opinion, they weren't very good. I won't try to go into details here, but I was less than impressed. After a few dances, they offered to give a lesson if anyone was interested. The response was less than enthusiastic. No one was interested. Even after I had been drinking, you couldn't get me up on the dance floor in front of all those people to try to tango!
With that out of the way, the last organized activity of the evening was a game of bingo to give away the last few prizes. Needless to say, I didn't win anything then either. It was quite comical, the person reading the letters/numbers off, was only saying the numbers, not the letters, and there were a couple people who decided they HAD to have the letters said too, since everyone knows the numbers can be duplicated in more than one column! Actually, it was more to help us understand him. The man reading the numbers was Japanese, and some of his numbers could have been letters. For example, when he said 55, did he say 55, or did he say B5? We couldn't tell. So then we sat there while he went back through the first 8 numbers giving us the letters too. Talk about confusion!
With that finally over with, it was time to do some dancing. I was talking with people, I don't really remember who; I was drinking, a couple more glasses of wine; And I was watching people dance. Then the DJ played The Electric Slide. That is one dance, I can't refuse to dance to. I HAVE to get up and dance to it. And I must say, I did quite well for being quite buzzed at the time. When that was all done with, I sat down and rested, talked some more, drank some more, then the party broke up at midnight. There were about five of us that decided to have a nightcap in the bar. One of them bought us margaritas, and we almost literally bumped into Doug there. I sat at a table with him, while the others sat at the table next to us, and the rest of might night is a blur or blank.
I remember talking to Doug, but I don't remember what I talked about. I remember us leaving, and the bartender telling me I could take my margarita to my room if I wanted, which I politely declined. But I don't remember anything after that until I woke up in my room at 7:00 AM. I don't remember getting into the elevator, I don't remember finding my room, I don't remember getting undressed, none of it. Despite being wasted, I was aware of certain things. Like the fact that I was wearing a ring on my finger, I removed it. I was wearing a pear necklace, I removed that too. I was wearing a pin on my blouse, I removed that as well before getting undressed. I found them neatly laying on the vanity by the bed. I was wearing my nightshirt, which I had put on the bed when I had unpacked everything earlier. But I wasn't all the way under the covers. I apparently crawled under the bedspread, but not under the sheet and blanket.
When I woke up at 7:00 AM with a hangover from hell (I needed some hair of the dog that bit me), I set the alarm clock for 10:00 AM so I could get up and get dressed and out of there before the noon checkout. I woke later at 10:00 AM, but not to the alarm. Good thing too, because I realized that although I set the alarm correctly, the clock itself was off by 12 hours. I very easily could have missed checkout, lol.
The other thing about my stay was the temperature control in my room. Each room has an individual thermostat to control the temperature. When I first checked in, I adjusted the thermostat down to 68, because I didn't want the room to be too warm later when I came back up to crash after the party. When I woke up at 10:00 AM to get dressed, I noticed it was very warm in the room. The thermostat said the room temperature was at least 74. My adjusting it down to 68 did nothing. So I turned the heat off. By the time I walked out at 11:00 AM to check out (and get something to drink so I could swallow a couple Advil) it was still 74 in that room. There were no windows to open, and I couldn't very well open the room door while I was showering and getting dressed. The heat was doing nothing for my hangover, it was nearly making me sick to my stomach.
I took the elevator down one floor to get to a pop machine, downed half a bottle of Pepsi in one gulp, along with a couple Advil, then staggered back to the elevator to go to the lobby to check out. I met a couple salesmen and their wives there, waiting for the car to pick them up so they could go to the airport. I told them my story of getting to my room last night, and we had a nice chuckle over it. My drive home was only 30 minutes or so, nice drive when there's no traffic. It took me several hours before I was feeling better, although food did help a bit.
I think I can safely say, I won't want any wine until new years, when I'm in CA. And only in moderation!!!!
I'm off to sunny southern California! My flight leaves at 8:40 AM tomorrow. I'm parking at the airport, in the long-term parking, so I'll want to get there by 7AM. Hopefully, traffic will be light, with most people off work for the holiday. I'm also hoping not a lot of people will actually be flying on New Year's Eve, lol.
