With Christmas just around the corner, it's time to share a few of the stories you folks sent in about your various holiday party failures. LET'S GO.
About 10 years ago, I was at our annual Christmas party. Back then, I was living in Boston and working at a very conservative Boston bank. The kind of place where you were you looked down upon if you didn't spend every weekend on Nantucket. One of my colleagues, and very good friends, was outrageous. In order to protect his identity, I will refer to him as Jim. In all seriousness, he is the funniest person I've ever met. Couple this with the fact that he took "open bar" as a challenge, every year we would take bets to see what he would do at the Christmas party.
Jim kicks off the party in normal fashion, drinking like a viking on a rampage. He's double-fisting Buds. The party winds down and a bunch of people go to a bar. Among those people are the CEO, several high ranking women, and other very important people within the firm. We're smoking cigars and drinking scotch. And Jim has reached the tipping point. I had seen it many times before and knew that I had to make sure he kept things under control, given the circumstances. But, it was not to be.
Jim starts telling a joke that I've heard him tell before. And it is, without a doubt, the most offensive joke I've ever heard. As mentioned before, the CEO, high ranking women, and other important people are there. In order to save his career, I start BEGGING him to stop telling the joke. He'll have none of it. I will recount the joke below. I don't suggest that you print it, but in order for you to understand the magnitude of the situation, I feel it is my duty to share.
A bunch of people are on a plane and it starts to go down. The flight attendant gets on the microphone and tells everyone to get in their seats and prepare for a crash landing. All of a sudden, some guy starts running up and down the aisle, taking everyone's peanuts.
Flight attendant: What are you doing?
Guy: If we get stranded somewhere, I want to have enough food to survive.
Flight attendant: Get back in your seat!
Two seconds later, the same guy starts running up and down the aisle, taking everyone's blankets.
Flight attendant: I told you to get back in your seat!
Guy: If we land somewhere cold, I want to be able to stay warm.
Flight attendant: This is the last time I'm gonna tell you to get back in your seat!
Guy goes back to his seat. All of a sudden, the flight attendant turns around and the guy is bangin' an African American girl.
Flight attendant: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!
Guy: I heard the first thing they look for when the plane crashes is the black box and I want to be in it!
The CEO puts down his cigar, looks at me and goes, "Make sure he gets home in one piece."
Last year I got married and we went to my inlaws for Christmas 3 months later. This was my third time being around most of these people and the time before (my wedding) I was so hung over I could not have made a good impression. This was my chance to ingratiate myself. We drove down on Christmas day, 5 hours, of course not realizing that there would be nothing to eat the entire way down with everything closed. We get there and I'm starving, but being the last to arrive all of the hors dourves are gone. With 3 hours to dinner, I figure beer will be my best belly-filling option. I smartly get 3 in before we sit down to the feast, but I want to seem classy so I switch to white wine. Dinner is going down far too fast with the combination of hunger and inebriation, so fast in fact that I fail to notice that everyone else is drinking red wine. Did that stop me from polishing off the entire bottle in about 45 minutes? Of course not. In the mean time I've finished somewhere around 3 plates of Turkey and fixings, and I'm starting to talk VERY LOUD.
This seems like an ideal time to mention that the matriarch of my inlaws is a recovering alcoholic. I was informed of this fact later and also told this was probably not the best way to introduce myself.
So, after dinner I decide to excuse myself to get some air. It was at this point that I puked in my inlaws bushes. When I came back in my new uncle handed me a shot of some type of brown alcohol that came in a bottle covered in Japanese letters with a snake floating in it. After that it got a little blurry. The only things I really remember after that are bumming a cigarette from my brother in law and running into a neighbors yard to vomit again, trying to make a move on my wife and falling asleep on top of her (she actually had to tell me that part), and waking up the next morning, still completely drunk, and vomiting all over the guest room shower. By the time I made it back to the living room, my entire new family was aware of all of this (save possibly the groping and falling asleep with no pants on) and probably untold numbers of yelled curses and hugs that went on too long. I consider it a Christmas miracle that I'm still married.
More to come.