Ah crap I waited until 4 to write this?
X-mas Party Con't

Now where did I leave the story off…oh, by the way Theresa thinks I make her sound “annoying” in my blog so to make her feel at ease expect some flowery appraisal “reassurance.” (Also known as Damage Control…love you baby *smile)

Oh, right, we were cooped up in a run down bus (yeah, it wasn’t even a top of the line yellow school bus) for about an hour before arriving downtown. As soon as the doors opened, the un-annoying Theresa-Chan had to fill her lungs with toxic chemicals. It’s sort of funny really, it’s like “ewww old rundown bus smell get me off this bus!” with “Need fresh air” urgency only to light up a cancer stick and suck back the nicotine. Meh, I chuck it up to the bad influence of 80s Television.

After the initial “where the hell are we supposed to go” we followed some people and found the party, garbed some seats and chilled. Not sure when but we met up with Jose and his hot girlfriend. Skip ahead a few minutes, and my boss comes over to mingle with the little people. Now, Petro Canada, (my boss, for all those loser who can’t keep up) must have come to the party drunk ‘cause he was WAY too touch-feely. I haven’t even shaken this boys hands and now he like *kiss kiss* WTF? I played along ‘cause I’ve learned from Mich’s teenage get-together don’t fucking shrew around with drunken people. After he kissed every female at our table he floated over to the bar to get more drunk...which is he did.

The forgotten table

Now for the record, Abby picked the table, so all rants about the table are her fault.

Speaking of drunks, the table Abby picked was right next to the table filled with 50 plus year olds who made Mich’s loser friends look well-behaved. Because we took the bus we were about an hour late to the party so these drunkards were about thirty minutes over their limit and continue to hit back the shooters. I reminded clam and avoid direct eye contact.

I suppose it was my own fault for announcing the fact that I don’t drink but Jose decides to bring the table shots of vodka…apparently he misunderstood me *shrug*. So for a girl not used to drinking I did down that sucker like it was…*decides not to finish that sentence.

Moving on…

Dinner

Ah, dinner, what can I say it was free….but does that stop me from dissing the food, nope!

We first got orange soup which I did try then steered clear of. Sweet Potato something or other…I don’t tend to learn the names of dishes I’m never planning on eating again, sorry. Then it was the rain forest of salads…one look I knew I wasn’t eating that. The beautiful Theresa didn’t either – she was too busy attacking the dinner rolls.

I’m pretty unobservant when food is put in front of me (most things people say are blah blah, in one ear out the other) but I did notice that one of the waitress was a bitch and our table just happened to have a former food/restaurant critic…*weak yeah* So, I got to hear bitching from a professional. After the food critic said something to the bitchy waitress our table was blacklisted and we were last to get anything, we had to stop two waitresses just to get brochette and ended up with cold ass salmon and beef.

Damn it its 4:30 already…okies wrap up time!

Drank some more, talked, avoided Petro Canada, mingled a bit, didn’t win in the raffle but the asskisser did (GOD DAMN IT! I’m still pissed about that) and lastly, went home with my wonderful wife (inside joke, that’s Theresa) in the same broke ass yellow school bus.

Moku out.