Company Christmas Party

[matrixrefugee]

...The family-owned local chain of garden centers my dad works for, that is. We just got in (my dad and I, that is), and I am deliciously tired from dancing for the past two hours with Sam, one of my dad's co-workers and Sam's girlfriend, whose name escapes me now; somehow, I managed to out-dance Sam, according to my dad, who was watching from the sidelines. Since the company was holding the party over at the country club within whispering distance of our house, there was no excuse for my dad and I *not* going. Of course, my dad's co-workers, who shared a table with us, were kidding him about the "Horrible, long drive" we had to make getting there. ::Grinning:: Of course, certain aspects of me were in full snark mode at some of the guests (snarking behind their backs, anyway), including the goofy guy who wore a red felt fedora and a red shirt with a white tie: he looked like a cross between one of Santa's elves and a Mafia goon!; and the woman who wore a length of gold tinsel garland like a mink stole; and the goony guy who danced like a cross between a pogo stick and an egg-beater. I am not making any of this up!

::Signing out early since she's literally falling asleep at the keyboard::