Vigorous Anonymity

Another Reason I Should Be Where Others Are Not

Posted on: July 1, 2009

Last night, we had the annual summer outing for our department at work.  There are 15 of us in the department, and we’re pretty isolated from the rest of the company.  Legal Departments are often like that.  Plus nobody really gets our jokes.

My boss and I are even more isolated because we don’t work in the main office with the other 13 people.  I email and phone them several times a week, but I don’t see them all the time, I don’t have lunch with them, I don’t stand at the “water cooler” and discuss last night’s Real Housewives.  So these outings are kind of odd for me.  My boss used to work out of their office and knows them all pretty well, so he fits right back in, but for me, I’ll always be the step-child.

That said, I’m still more fun than any of them put together, so they tolerate me better than they would if I were a bitch.

Last night’s endeavor involved miniature golf and a barbecue.  Here is a list of the ways in which I was able to embarrass myself in the scant few hours we were together:

  • When I left the building, it was absolutely pouring (surprise!) and I was soaked from head to toe by the time I got to my car.  When I arrived, 90 minutes later, at the miniature golf place (traffic) I was still very damp, and it wasn’t until an hour later that I realized all my mascara had moved from my eye lashes to my cheeks.
  • There was wine.  Copious amounts of wine.  When we started golfing, I had a full glass in my hands, so I just brought it along with me.  (I wasn’t the only one, so don’t judge.)  But when I finished it, I didn’t want to carry it with me any more so I chucked it behind me on to the nice soft grassy area, assuming someone would clean it up later, only I managed to hit the 1-inch thick metal light pole, and shattered the wine glass into a thousand pieces.  Loudly.
  • Out of the 15 of us golfing, I was the only one who lost her ball in the water.  My score remains incomplete.
  • When we were done, all the women headed to the bathroom (of course).  I was there first, and when I walked in, the…aroma…of an anonymous toilet user was thick in the air.  I was just there to continue to wipe the mascara off my face, so I just took a shallow breath and then went to the sink.  And then a co-worker walked in, took a breath, stood stock still and looked at me.  “It was here when I got here,” I quickly disclaimed, and she nervously looked away and went in a stall.  Then another co-worker came in, and did the same thing.  “It was here when I got here!”  Same reaction.  That happened four times.  Finally, I gave up and blamed the chili at lunch.
  • The table we were eating at was long and rectangular, with seats at each head.  The only chair available when I got there was on the side that was wedged up against the wall.  The two seats at each head had a wall behind them too, and I looked at my boss’s boss, who is a thin man, and excused myself.  He shuffled his chair in an inch, and I laughed.  I explained that while I would dearly love to be able to squeeze in behind him, that was not a possibility, and would he mind getting up so I could get around him.  Which he graciously did, but I was nervous and started to wiggle behind him just as he was getting up and we had a weird body-brush incident which we both ignored and then my jeans got caught on his chair and I upended the entire thing.

So that all happened.  Can’t wait to see what gets planned for next year.


2 Responses to "Another Reason I Should Be Where Others Are Not"

I think they’re going to make YOU plan next year’s.

Bean burritos instead of chili (or porta-potties)
Plastic wine glasses.
Sand traps, not water.


I’d still love to party with you.

This is precisely why I do better as a self employed individual!

I should reconsider going back to my old job simply to avoid these types of events. I’m just like you, always doing something to draw attention to myself even as I try to melt into a wall.

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  • None
  • TheQueen: Yeah, perhaps next year suggest you ALL just skip the adult gifts and focus on the little ones. I'm sure you won't miss it!
  • kristabella: Yay! You're back!
  • Shania Ring: Out of all of that, the only thing in my head is 20?!? Twenty? I remember a little boy in middle school when I first started reading you. Are you SURE
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