Happy Hour?

Staff Parties

Are you going to the “halfway thru the year party?”  We have one of those instead of the “oh so passé”  Christmas party.  Hell to the no I’m not going. 

Our staff has a committee that we call the Staff Welfare Committee.  The main job of that group of teachers is to collect money from the staff, buy flowers and condolence cards when necessary and plan all faculty/staff social events.  This committee works harder than any other committee we have. It is a thankless job.  It doesn’t help that our committee is run by a few folks who haven’t found anything even remotely fun or amusing in years.  It’s hard to get excited about a party when the message is delivered by Debbie Downer in a school sweatshirt. “Next Friday night is the…sigh…halfway thru the year ….sigh….party.  I hope everyone…yawn (oops, that was me yawning, sorry) can attend.

 They try so hard to “bring everyone together” by planning Happy Hours at local bars and restaurants AKA "Happy Drunk driving anyone?"  I mean, seriously!  We are invited to attend these happy hours at local bars that offer half price drinks and then we all have to drive home!  I guess I just don’t have enough self-control to drink responsibly and I sure as hell don’t want to be my friends’ designated driver.  Now that would be a thankless night from hell. “Y’all have fun and drink up so I can drive your drunk asses home…no, no, no you are not puking in my car, are you?  OPEN THE WINDOW!”

As a designated driver you get to watch everyone’s light switch go out and then the fun begins.  I know my friends and I’ve seen it before. They start laughing hysterically over stuff that just isn’t funny unless you too have downed at least five shots of tequila.  Then they all run out to the dance floor and dance together with their arms in the air balancing drinks. Soon they start to cry and tell everyone how much they love them.  “OH my god, I love you soooo much.  Where did you get that skirt?  It’s sooo cuuuute!” The final fifteen minutes of the evening involves someone telling someone else what they really think of them and then the fight begins. No, I won’t be attending the staff party, but a select few of you non-pukers are welcome to come to my house next weekend and have a real party….one that doesn’t involve embarrassing Monday morning photos posted on Facebook by sneaky bitches with camera phones. The taxi service numbers will be on the bar.