So now you have the main characters of my office story. You've met Angela the judgemental accountant, Andy the "I don't wanna brag, but.." guy, Dwight the egotistical water protector, Creed the crazy and usually incoherent musician turned technician, Meredith the caring alcoholic, the over qualified and overworked Stanley, and of course, let's not forget, Michael the self-centered and oblivious boss.
Looking back and remembering my first week in this vortex I can see how the Universe was warning me. In fact, it was throwing me everything it had, hoping I would notice that I was getting in over my head. Still, I ignored all of the signs and now almost three years later I still sit here wondering how I ever made it this far. Or why I've stayed here this long. But if there's one thing to be thankful for, it's that I've been able to come home from a long days work, or go out after a grueling week at the office and entertain people with my office stories.
The first week at work is always an adjustment period and soon I had settled into somewhat of a routine. I learned who I could trust; Meredith and Andy were always there to help me through the hard times. A few weeks had gone by and it seemed that I was finally getting into a groove here at the office, that is until Michael decided to stage an office party.
As all of "The Office" fans know, Michael Scott is all about the company parties, and so is my Michael. Unfortunately Michael has embarrassed himself or all of us at these functions so many times that he has a hard time getting people to come to his office parties anymore...in fact the last office party had only one other person besides Michael in attendance. Imagine Michael sitting in a room, adorned in his best party hat with only one suck-up employee in attendance, it's a sad story, but another story.
This office party was thrown in an effort to get everyone together in a casual setting. I was still single so my "plus one" was my sister. My sister happens to be very easy on the eyes, and though I don't agree that beautiful or ugly people should be discriminated against, after this office party, my sister would not be invited to any more office events. In fact, since that fateful day, I have refrained from bringing any guests to my office functions. Michael has mentioned several times that he thinks I am making my friends up, but I would rather face scrutiny than put my friends or family through the same turmoil that my sister had to experience.
Experiences tend to build character and after this party my sister and I both came out much more....character-y. The setting was a mini golf course with subpar pizza and light beer. I had already warned my sister about the personalities that would be present and in an attempt to prepare ourselves for the upcoming evening we each packed a flask. A flask of hard liquor will numb the pain of any social situation and we were sure that this would be the only weapon we would need.
We arrived late, probably on purpose. No one wants to be the first person to show up at the office party taking place in the mini golf course. What would you do if you were there first? Twiddle awkwardly with a putter, shuffle your feet and avoid making eye contact with the boss? Absolutely not! Arriving late was our best choice.
Upon our arrival we quickly gathered the situation. There at the table reserved for our company were fifteen or so people looking either bored out of their minds or extremely awkward. Or both. How Michael could make someone feel so uncomfortable and so uninterested at the same time baffles me, it must be a skill that you're born with, either you have it or you don't. I took a quick stock of how much beer was sitting in front of each person. Most people had decided to stay moderately sober for fear of letting their guard down in a casual office party setting. Michael on the other hand took this as a sign that he should drink more and become the life of the party. As a bartender I couldn't help but compare the amount of beer gone from each glass to the assumption I would make about each person present. The beer count went something like this...
Angela...plastic taster glass...One sip gone. Probably because she couldn't stomach the light beer served at these kinds of places. The beer served at a mini golf course/pizza place usually has an aftertaste that reminds one of old moldy carpet and unless you chug it, you lose all appetite for not only the beer but anything else you considered eating that night.
Andy...pint glass....half full. Andy was too distracted from his beer, he was having a much better time showing any passing five year old how to take someone out in the ball pit with one of his signature wrestling moves.
Meredith...wine glass....full. Meredith wasn't a wine and beer kind of girl, she had a flask too. I didn't notice this until Meredith sneezed and discreetly "wiped her nose" aka...took a swig.
Creed...pepsi...he was "sober" tonight which probably meant that Meredith was sneaking him shots from her flask as well. I always suspected an office romance between Meredith and Creed but never got to find out if my suspicions were correct or not.
And then there was Michael....pitcher...nothing but suds. That would explain the bloodshot eyes and slight slur as he announced to everyone, "HEY! Look who finally decided to show up!"
He, of course, was talking about me and my plus one. Immediately he shuffled up from his seat and tip-toed over to us. No one can explain a drunkards behavior, no one can explain Michael's sober behavior, so I really couldn't tell you why he felt it necessary to tip-toe in the first place. Then Michael did the thing that any bartender knows is a sure sign that someone should be cut off. He did the close talking thing. You know the invasion of personal space that all too many drunk people (including myself) have done. "Hhhhiiiiii" he said and smiled and gooey grin. The smell of beer and moldy carpet breath was overwhelming and I immediately lost my appetite.
Michael then did the unforgiveable. He looked at my sister. No, not glanced and my sister and smiled politely. He stared. He stared for a long time. And it wasn't the "Uh oh, I think he got stuck stare" that happens to people sometimes. I love watching people get stuck, sometimes I envy people when they're "stuck." I start wondering about where they are, what they're thinking about. It's as if they've reached some kind of nirvana that is so pleasurable that all bodily functions must stop. It's as if their daydream has become reality and for a split second they get to leave their body and float above cloud nine. I never bother someone who's stuck. Let them have their moment. Have you ever been stuck only to be brought back to reality with a rude snap or someone waving in your face asking you where you're at? It sucks.
Michael was not stuck. Michael was doing that thing that men do with their eyes. Some people say it's eye fucking. Some people say "undressing you with their eyes." Whatever it was, I'm pretty sure Michael's eyes would have been drooling if given the opportunity. This wasn't a "did you get the feeling he was eye fucking me" look....no....it was like someone freezed the frame and came out with a little flag that said, "Michael is now going to eye fuck Amanda's sister." Then the frame would resume and the eye fucking would commence. I could see what was happening, my sister could feel what was happening and we knew we had to take evasive measures.
"Do I *hic* know you??" Michael asked my sister. The hiccup was a sure sign that something inappropriate was going to happen. The hiccup was what happened right before Michael made the comment about my ass at the business expo. It was time to use the code sentence.
My sister and I had a code sentence that we had discussed prior to our arrival. If either one of us felt the need for a bathroom/flask break we would say "My toe hurts, I think I cut my toenails too short" and we would both know it was time. Looking back we should have picked a more common phrase, or perhaps just one word. Perhaps we should have just gone straight to the bathrooms and started drinking, it would have saved us a lot of time. Either way, the code sentence was used almost immediately and we were on our way to the bathroom.
Once inside we felt a rush of peace and security; kind of like that feeling you would get as a kid when you were playing tag and finally touched base. We were safe, our base was the women's bathroom, we were impervious to any awkwardness that awaited us out in the mini golf course/pizza parlour. I removed my flask and offered the first sip to my sister, she deserved it, she had just escaped a pretty serious eye fucking. She took a good long pull and passed it back to me. Just as I was about to raise the flask I noticed our uninvited guest peeking from around the corner...
Michael was spying on us! Fortunately for us, drunk spies make horrible spies. I'm sure the look on my face was one of shock because Michael immediately knew he had been spotted. He stumbled into the women's bathroom. "Hey laaaadies" his eyes started doing that drooly thing again. "Do you need help with that??"
He touched my sister's arm and reached for the flask in mine. "Whatcha got in there?" Michael asked.
"OKAY!" sister said. "It's time to go."
I can always count on my sister to know when a situation is escalating but this must have been some kind of record. We had only been at the mini golf course/pizza parlour for five minutes. Sister rushed out of the bathroom, I quickly followed not even bothering to re-stash my flask.
Michael was third out of the bathroom and apparently the rukus had caught the attention of the rest of the people in the office. Everyone watched as my sister stomped out of the golf course, everyone watched as I followed.
"Hey, get back here!" Michael exclaimed. "I just want to know what you had in your flask!"
Meredith looked up, "They had flasks?" Suddenly she realized that if we had flasks, hers didn't have to be so hidden so she started chugging from hers publicly.
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