Apparently I was the butt of everybody's joke yesterday. And rightfully so, I fully admit. From the moment I awoke, feeling delightfully rested and comfortable in my bed, it just took seconds for my brain to register that the reason I felt rested was because it was 9:30 in the morning and I was not at work. And then, the panic. I frantically email my boss, fully admitting that I had overdone the birthday celebration the previous night and that, well, I was just not going to make it into the office that day. Nor was I planning on making it to our 8am meeting, that was already over. I even offered to allow her to take disciplanary action against me (because if I didn't give her my blessing to punish me, she probably wouldn't). And when I had my 1:1 with her today, I reiterated my generousity. All she said she wanted was her $5 back.
Heh?
Turns out, my boss and a coworker of mine placed a wager on the possibility of my appearance in the office that day. And my boss lost. She really should have played the odds better on this one. But I respected the punishment like a big girl and I dug in my handbag, found a $5 bill crinkled up at the bottom next to my chapstick (and luckily the gum was still in it's wrapper), I straightened it out and ironed it on the edge of my desk, and with a big fat pouting of my lower lip, I delivered it to her. And then we laughed. Loudly. The funny thing is, she was a bit hung over herself yesterday (although, ever the professional, actually made it into the office) from the happy hour that they had for me. Is it still called happy hour when the drink & appetizer specials have ended and it's 10pm? I think that's just called "getting drunk at the bar" but I'm not one to judge.
And here's why. By 10pm that night, I was at another bar, playing a drinking game that was designed specifically for me on my special day. It consisted of two men with guitars, playing The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, while spicing up the lyrics just a bit. Everytime they used a specific word, I had to drink. Turns out, this word must have been their favorite because I went through a 25 oz. beer by the time the song was over. It went a little something like this:
Heh?
Turns out, my boss and a coworker of mine placed a wager on the possibility of my appearance in the office that day. And my boss lost. She really should have played the odds better on this one. But I respected the punishment like a big girl and I dug in my handbag, found a $5 bill crinkled up at the bottom next to my chapstick (and luckily the gum was still in it's wrapper), I straightened it out and ironed it on the edge of my desk, and with a big fat pouting of my lower lip, I delivered it to her. And then we laughed. Loudly. The funny thing is, she was a bit hung over herself yesterday (although, ever the professional, actually made it into the office) from the happy hour that they had for me. Is it still called happy hour when the drink & appetizer specials have ended and it's 10pm? I think that's just called "getting drunk at the bar" but I'm not one to judge.
And here's why. By 10pm that night, I was at another bar, playing a drinking game that was designed specifically for me on my special day. It consisted of two men with guitars, playing The Gambler by Kenny Rogers, while spicing up the lyrics just a bit. Everytime they used a specific word, I had to drink. Turns out, this word must have been their favorite because I went through a 25 oz. beer by the time the song was over. It went a little something like this:
You gotta know when to hold 'em.
Know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
And know when to mother fuckin' run, dog.
You never count your money, mother fucker,
when you're sittin' at the table.
They'll be time enough for countin',
when the mother fuckin' dealin's done.
Know when to fold 'em.
Know when to walk away,
And know when to mother fuckin' run, dog.
You never count your money, mother fucker,
when you're sittin' at the table.
They'll be time enough for countin',
when the mother fuckin' dealin's done.
And repeat.
Again.
Again.
And.............refill.
It was simply delightful!
Around 3am, it was finally time to leave. As I'm writing this I'm sitting her wondering if I paid my tab. So I sent an email to the bartender to see. Afterall, it's 99% his fault that I can't remember. I didn't order half of what he put in front of me that night. It was somewhere between the JagBull and The Gambler that I decided I would not be attending my 8am meeting the next day. Had I known there was a wager, maybe I would have tried a little harder to beat the odds. At least I know for next year.
Again.
Again.
And.............refill.
It was simply delightful!
Around 3am, it was finally time to leave. As I'm writing this I'm sitting her wondering if I paid my tab. So I sent an email to the bartender to see. Afterall, it's 99% his fault that I can't remember. I didn't order half of what he put in front of me that night. It was somewhere between the JagBull and The Gambler that I decided I would not be attending my 8am meeting the next day. Had I known there was a wager, maybe I would have tried a little harder to beat the odds. At least I know for next year.
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