Friday, July 07, 2006

The office party

Probably the one time when all the stiff upper lips loosen up and get silly over company-paid booze.

The wildest office party I've been to was the Easter bash in my first year in GE.
Big bosses had hired out the lawns at the South City Club in Gurgaon and the five bars around the acre of green were like beehives swarming with buzzing drones.
In the great tradition of the American college party, each bar had a 10 gallon keg which attendants kept pouring bottles of Kingfisher into (along with quite a bit of ice).
One giant dance floor with all the latest 'hits' blasting out from a Sirdie DJ's mixer was hardly big enough for the teeming mass of sweaty bodies wanting to bump and grind with the hotties.
Don't remember most of it, just Baba offering me a spliff and then running around the lawn with my shirt open yelling, "Superman, Superman, mighty flighty Superman"
Also remember trying to force my way out of the crush on the floor to grab a beer, making it till the edge and some chick who looked vaguely familiar asking me if I want to dance.
Must have slurred something at her, because she grabbed my hand and pulled me back in.
I was still bouncing from the earlier track and hadn't realised they had switched it to that sick-as-shit Celine Dion number from Titanic.

Next thing I remember is waking up the next evening.
Get to work and the guys in my department are pointing and laughing. This vaguely familiar chick walks by, smiles and says "Hi, are you feeling better?"
I "huh" back at her and she looks shell-shocked
I ask what happened, and one helpful gent tells me that that woman and me had been climbing all over each other in the middle of the floor - right till they shut the music and told us all to fuck off home.
This is why I hate getting drunk.

Last office party we had was when the paper threw a shindig at QBA.
One anonymous gent passed out on a sofa, then rolled over and fell between the sofa and the table in front of it.
Two waiters came over to pull him out, one grabbing his head, the other his feet.
But the sozzled fucker had one arm stuck under the table and the more they pulled, the more danger there was of all the plates, bottles and glasses on the table crashing to the floor.
So they just left him there.

There's one more tonight.
QBA revisited. Should be worth a laugh


Blogger some girl i dont know said...

was going through the archives i am wondering have u reached a 50 yet ??

3:36 PM  
Blogger Pirate of the Arabian said...

reached a 50?

11:43 AM  

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