PART I: Cheers to Staff Parties, First Dates, and Kickin' it with The New Deal!

Above: image borrowed from Little Things: The Snapshot Side of MelvinKobe & Jorid Van Laer

Mr. Bamboo is always like, "When are you ever going to write about me in your blog?"


To which I usually reply, "Whenever I feel like it."


Well, I suppose the time has come...


Back in 2001, I landed a summer job as a hostess at a local Mexican restaurant. I know, it wasn't very glamourous but it did have its perks: As a starving university student, you could make just enough to pay your bills and then use your tip money to support your ridiculously booming social life. Talk about priorities, eh? An added bonus was the fact that all of my co-workers actually made my job enjoyable so it wasn't a surprise that we would often tear-up the town together outside of work.

So on one such occasion...

My employer threw a killer staff party. And by killer, I almost mean this literally. The restaurant also owned a popular club in town so they reserved a section of the bar for staff and guests only. Oh yeah, and it was an open bar event which had the potential of turning the night into quite a sh*t show considering they were dealing with a bunch of rowdy 18-24 year-olds (FYI: the legal drinking age is 18 in my hometown).

So after my co-workers and I did some mandatory schmoozing over a couple of complimentary cocktails, we soon hit the dance floor where we remained for the duration of the evening, only taking 5 every ten songs or so when the DJ decided to play a slow jam. And when "No Woman No Cry" came on, we all simultaneously made a bee-line towards the bar to grab another high ball when someone...mind you, a tall strapping young man...intercepted our current mission.

TSYM: Hey, you wanna dance?

Silence.

CO-WORKER: Um...I think he's talking to you BB [as she not-so-subtly elbowed me right smack in the chest while "whispering" this into my ear].

ME: Uh...yeah...sure. [I figured he was easy on the eyes so why not?]

So we danced. But don't worry, it wasn't one of those cheesy slow dance moments reminiscent of high school in which you awkwardly clutch onto your partner for dear life and rock back and forth like a pendulum as "Stairway to Heaven" blasts from the gymnasium speakers. Instead, we danced in mock-ballroom style, complete with exaggerated impromptu twirls which left us both in a fit of giggles by the end of Bob's song. And while I'm the sure that the open bar had a lot to do with our silly state, I was genuinely enjoying this guy's company. But my good sense reminded me that this was a crazy staff party and he was some random dude I had just met, so several of these one-night connections had probably been made throughout the evening.


By the time last call rolled around shortly after, TSYM and I went our separate ways to re-group and find our obnoxiously hammered friends. I was definitely ready for a gallon of water and my fluffy duvet so I quickly said my good-byes and booked it out of there so I could hail a cab before other taxi vultures even had a chance. Right as I had one foot firmly planted into my eagerly awaiting cab, I noticed TSYM walking right towards me...

TSYM: Wow, someone's in a hurry!

ME: Yup, I'm pretty wiped-out so I'm trying to beat that crazy post-bar rush...

TSYM: No kidding...um...so it was nice to meet you...and we really should hang out sometime. Can I have your number?

ME: [Right, I haven't heard that one before, but I still scribbled my damn number on the back an old receipt I had fished out of my bulging wallet.] Yeah, OK.

TSYM: Cool. Thanks! I'll definitely give you a ring sometime...

ME: Sounds good, bye! [It's been real, dude.]

********

Thankfully, I had booked the next day off work so I could pathetically mope around the house and rehydrate myself from the night before. When a girlfriend had phoned to re-hash staff party shenanigans, my little slow dance incident unfortunately did not go unmentioned:

GIRLFRIEND: So who was that guy you were making googly eyes with on the dance floor?

ME: Googly eyes?? Do people even say that anymore? OK, so his name is G and it wasn't a big deal. We were just dancing.

GIRLFRIEND: Oh c'mon! He was totally into you! It was the way he was looking at you!

ME: Honey, the way he was looking at me probably had something to do with all of the free booze that was being shoved down our throats last night!

GIRLFRIEND: You're such a cynic! Besides, he was damn cute.

BEEP. [Sweet, my other line. Saved by the bell.] BEEP.

ME: Just a sec--my other line...Hello?

CLICK. Damn, they hung up.

ME: Hello?

GIRLFRIEND: So who was it?

ME: I'm not sure, I just missed the call.

GIRLFRIEND: Hey wait a minute, did you give what's-his-name your number?

ME: Yeah but--

GIRLFRIEND: Oh man, it was probably HIM!!

ME: I serioulsy doubt it.

GIRLFRIEND: Star-69 it!

ME: What??

GIRLFRIEND: You know, star-69 the call so you can find out who it was...

ME: All right, Eager Beaver, you are soooo relentless!! haha! So what if it was him? He's just some random guy that I had a brief, 15-minute encounter with--end of story! Besides, how cliche is it to meet someone at a bar, let alone at a drunken gong show of a staff party??

GIRLFRIEND: Seriously, there's no action in my love life right now and frankly, there's not a lot of activity in yours either! So as your friend, I command you to hang up the phone right now and find out if he freakin' called you! What do you honestly have to lose?

OK, she did have a point...

To be continued...