Sunday, March 11, 2007

I feel like they're talking in a language I don't speak

My office had its holiday party last night. Just because it's three months late, doesn't mean it can't be festive. Only there were games involved. But I'm getting ahead of myself. First we took the folks to a charming little Italian place that I enjoy. So what says Italian better than whetting our appetites with a plate of antipasti? Delicious salamis and cheeses, savory olives and figs, who could resist, right? I took a few morsels and passed the plate. It came back intact. Apparently, the people I work with only eat foods that are clearly defined and recognizable from their youth. As there were no Kraft singles or hotdogs on the plate, I was left to nibble imported delicacies for the rest of the night. PS? When I asked my seatmate to pass the olive oil, she remarked, "You're gonna eat that? I thought it was just a table decoration." To her credit, she did point at some cheese and ask, "Is that brie?" Only she pronounced it like a nickname for Brian.

Fast forward to the after-party, where games commenced. I'm just not a big party game guy, but I am a joiner (ask anyone!), so a rousing game of Catch Phrase ensued. I think the following vignette succinctly capsulizes the evening. It was the other team's turn and my sister-in-law was giving clues. "It's a city in England", she exclaimed, which was met with a guess of "Paris!" by one of my co-workers, and blank non-responsive stares from the other two. Not to be deterred, sister-in-law came back with "the Queen lives there!" which prompted a guess of "the Eiffel Tower!" You know it's true because it doesn't make a lick of sense, so why would I make that up? Finally, desperately, she offered "I see blank, I see France, I see someone's underpants". They got that one, she passed the device to me, and the buzzer went off.

These people really are lovely, but?

11 comments:

Sherri said...

Are you forced to appear in public with these people? Can't you get adopted into one of those intellectual, urbane caveman groups we see on the Geico commercials?

freakgirl said...

Oh my heck. That's too bad.

Back when I worked in an office, our holiday parties would feature events like, "See Drunken Boss Fall Down The Stairs," "End Up Moving Party to Local Gay Bar," and the always-delightful "Hey Boss, Please Stop Touching My Ass."

Good times.

Q - 60's girl said...

:) but there is no way you would have been left alone with the cheese, olives & figs if you were here... yum!

The Other Andrew said...

Oh my gah, you really shine out like a beacon don't you?! Talk about being thrown into sharp relief by comparison.

Michael said...

They really are nice people. People who are more friendly and more happy than I am. Just not MY people.

Andrew, did you just backhand me with that compliment? Like, my, you sure do look pretty when you're in a room full of ugly people? ;-)

yaniboy said...

And the word of the day is:

Clueless (n): To be without a clue, Michael's workmates are totally clueless.

maddie said...

Wow, that is something. I'm sorry. Just hearing about that antipasto makes my mouth water. People and extreme ignorance to anything outside of their immediate comfort zones just amaze me sometimes. My relatives from KY think that dinner at Cracker Barrel is a night on the town at a 5-star restaurant.

If you are ever down in the Tampa area, we'll have to go to this little cafe where they serve the tastiest flat bread with fresh tomatoes and mozzerella and a balsamic reduction with plenty of that oil/table decoration. MMM. No kraft singles in sight.

maddie said...

Not that I don't enjoy the occasional "cheesefood" product every once and a while...

The Other Andrew said...

People who are more friendly and more happy than I am.

...and respond better to compliments, right? :) If I ever backhand you, it won't be with a compliment. ::whack::

Chaucer's Bitch said...

and THAT, in a nutshell, is exactly why I left the Midwest. (Born and raised in southern Michigan.) Connecticut was an improvement, but England better yet. Get yer butt over here, mate!

Michael Guy said...

Olive oil is decorative? I thought that's what books were for?!

No doubt red cashmere is wasted on the entire lot.