December 15, 1998 |
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It's me at work on a Sunday afternoon. I just got back from an office Christmas party that lapsed over into this morning for me. Fitting it is that Company H, a company most widely known for it's colorful cartoon kiddie-games would hold its holiday banquet at the whale display in the Seattle Center. So while the Human Relations part of the company looked on with bitter humor, the funky H art department was cutting themselves one pretty slice of rug last night. I thought I was going to be the only girl to walk through the door of the Science Center wearing a belly exposing blouse, a thin thigh-length skirt and patterned black nylons. But there were some really impressive, slippery girls there that were way outdoing me in sexy clothing. Ho. You should have seen the low swung braless backs and slit thigh skirts that were grinding their coworkers on the dance floor. Even I didn't have the nerve to pick any one male coworker out and humpdance them. Not that I didn't think of that though. There was this guy Juno that was just as sweet as pie in his tan sport jacket and matching slacks. The x secretary was writhing on someone else with her drink when she spotted Juno from across the dance floor. She squeals and spooned him from the rear, saddling his rear with her crotch. She must have inspired some spunk in me. I remember hearing about some dormant disposable cameras on the empty dinner tables upstairs that were donated by the office Christmas Party committee. I played drunk to get those close up action shots of coworkers making some horny dance moves. A second camera was kept in reserve under my armpit. People were playing along for the most part, probably only because they were so drunk. At some point Damon, who came as my guest to the party, took snapshots of my naked butt outside the building. I handed off the camera to the H management before I realized I had just openly surrendered a visual of my butt to the camera-responsible staff. I thought that was funny in the long run. Someone will see it on the company film-developing team, and they will just keep it secret. Everyone else is drunk on that roll anyway, so cast ye the first stone who hasn't sinned you know? Some pictures depicted coworkers taking big gulps of Tequila coming down a flight of stairs and stuff. (Terrence. I smite thee.) So I think I am safe as a kitten here. But I ended up running through a famous Seattle water fountain in the center of the park. Not drunk. I am just impulsive and manic depressive by nature. People see that as a drunkenness, but it's just me sober on the weekend. The fountain was putting on a water display that is triggered every height of the hour. So inviting to play in. Damon had to take his silk shirt off and run though the jets of water in his white undershirt. That silk shirt, needing to be kept safe back in my parked car, was responsible for my keys disappearing that night. I thought I lost them at first, because I was getting a ride to a post-party party and they couldn't stop at my parking spot to check through the window. They were actually lying in the cup of the drivers seat, plain as day. I'm just glad I took out the TV and VCR out of my trunk before I happened to carlock my keys. How inviting would it be to a passing thief: a car parked in an iffy part of Seattle loaded to the rim with Christmas presents and 1,000 dollars worth of brand new video equipment. On top of it he gets the keys and title in wide open view. The post-party house I ended up at was more toned down than I wanted, but the people I met there were spectacular people. Sandra was the best, she was gorgeous and dating a cool scripter guy from the Kingdoms teem. She showed her tits and crotch that night, and I was inspired to flash my bra to everyone while trying to pull my nylons over my breasts. Then she was off to meet everyone at the Microsoft Christmas party going on that night as well. I made a pleasant spectacle of myself telling the hosts vomit and redneck stories over a tiki shaped glass of Kaluha. Turk was making flaming Dr.Peppers as his feisty roommate Benson tried to fart over his fiery shotglass. Turk was merry as a Teletubby as he fell laughing through the front door while returning from a smoke. He had nine drinks back at the center, and a pack of beer over the top of it. He woke as hungry as a dog this morning, having remarkably escaped any hangover symptoms. I watched bull riding on ESPN2 as Turk took a shower in preparation of Operation Unlock. He and his girl Ophelia helped me all day this morning trying to get the keys out of my car. I thanked them for their chauffeur service by buying them brunch at Denny's. Funny thing is, I never ended up going home at all last night. I put on Damon's silk shirt and a new pair of jeans I happened to have in my car still, and went straight to work after a short meeting with a locksmith. Changed pants and shirt right in the front seat of the car. I am such the voyeur. |
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