My life is like a bad sitcom....or something

Pickle's on maternity leave but she stopped by the office today to just visit with people and have lunch with a bunch of us. While she was here, we were catching her up on the stories from around the office. After about 12 minutes of story-telling, it became clear that 80% of the stories were about me or somehow related to me.

1. My boss hosted the office at his house for a cookout/office party this summer. He cooked, we all brought sides and desserts and drinks to share. Well, apparently I didn't so such a good job at "sharing" my drinks...but I did great at "drinking" my drinks. So after a few hours of the cookout, I was wandering through my boss's backyard when I accidentally stumbled into the side of his house. With a thud. (at which point I interjected that I ran into a chair AND a concrete column in the office yesterday, to illustrate that I'm clumsy in general, regardless of consumption).
The other key factor to mention here is that while wandering through the backyard...and into the wall...I was holding a newborn child. One of my co-workers had brought his wife and child to the party and they let me hold the child. I guess when you have a 4-month-old baby you are willing to let anybody hold him so you regain free use of your arms, but I'd like to suggest that parents use a little more discretion than that and refrain from handing your baby over to the drunk girl. My current theory is that because the parents in this situation are teetotalers, maybe they didnt recognize the situation for what it was. Because I'm pretty sure it's a widely understood policy that you DO NOT let the drunk girl hold your baby!

2. I am a regular contributor to my office's blog. Our blog is separate from our corporate website, but still kinda official. We try to write stuff that's entertaining, insightful, cheeky and mostly random. Last week, I wrote a post about Halloween, going over some dos and don'ts for costuming this year. The original title of the post was "Are you wearing a douchebag costume?" (or something like that). I posted it one day last week, then on Tuesday of this week (5 days later) I got an email from the director of our office letting me know I needed to change the title.
Apparently someone had started an auto-feed from our office's blog onto our corporate site (run by our corporate office in NY) and "Are you wearing a douchebag costume?" had popped up on the main page. Whoops. Someone saw it and freaked and it got back to one of the big corporate directors, who called the director of my office and (laughingly) said "um....y'all need to change that....we need to keep it clean."
I apologized, changed it and then talked with the other editors of the blog about other questionable content. Like the painted butt pumpkin picture, "WTF" tag and ass-related comments.
But what's really funny about all this is that of ALL THE PEOPLE to get called out for "inappropriate blogging" that it was me! I am NOT the potty mouth of the group. In fact, "douchebag" might be the worst word I say. So, of course, as word spread through the office, people found this hilarious. And started calling me "Douchebag". And it stuck.

Add that to the stories that weren't told (like my bathroom counter that caught on fire, my Halloween hair, my couch-surfing, etc.) and I began to realize that my life is pretty much just a long drawn-out series of embarassing (yet hilarious) stories.

Oh well. At least I entertain myself.

Douchebag of the Week

DBOTW: Drunk Mike


While in New York for work a couple of weeks ago, Wafer and I headed to The Watering Hole for dinner. We sat at the bar, eating our fried food, chatting with each other and discussing the basketball games that were on tv. We were having a lovely time. Until.

Toward the end of the evening, Drunk Mike stopped by. He greets us and proceeds to ask "Can I have some of your fries?" while reaching past us to grab a handful of fries. He shoves them in his mouth and starts chatting.

"Where are you from? OH! You're here for work? What kind of work? I work for Accenture. Do you know what my company did today? You don't?!? Really?!? We announced a new thing with Tiger Woods. If you lived in New York, you'd know that. Yeah, I've been working for Accenture for 4 years. It's a great job."

At which point we interject: "we're heading out...early flight tomorrow...goodnight!" To which he responds:

"What time's your flight? Which airport? Are you taking a cab? If you are, you should pay cash. New York cab drivers like it when you pay cash. So do waiters. Even if you pay the bill with a credit card, you should tip in cash. What kind of ring is that? That's the wrong hand. Why aren't you married?"

(all the while, he continues eating our fries and we ask for the check...willing it to come faster is not working)

I tell him I'm not old enough to be married and that maybe someday I will be.

"How old are you? Guess how old I am? I'm 30. Turning 31 next month. Don't I look good for 31? I don't have any grey hair at all yet."

Finally, the check arrives, we don our coats and tell Drunk Mike we're leaving. He keeps hovering around our stools eating the remainder of our fries while we skip happily out the door.

So, congratulations Drunk Mike. Your ever-running mouth, filled with our french fries, earns you the honor of DBOTW.

Give my regards to Broadway...

I went to New York for work a couple of weeks ago. We held a series of meetings with key people to give them advanced info on an announcement my client was making in the Bay Area the following week.

In my line of work, we do things like this fairly often, and for me, these types of projects are the best part of my job. I get to help my client figure out exactly what to say to best share their info and make a point. And I get to play "hostess", sending out invitations, helping executives pick their outfits, making introductions and guiding conversations. The preparation for such an event is intense, but worth it. And my clients were pleased with how everything went. Yay!

My colleague Wafer was on the trip with me and it was great. We made quick work of the hard labor and kept each other company. And our last night in town, we found time to explore the city. And that's where the story gets interesting.

We walked to the much bally-hooed Magnolia Bakery (of Sex & The City fame) then sat on the steps of a cute little brownstone to eat our FANTASTIC cupcakes. Then we hit a Rite-Aid for chapstick and a fleece scarf. Then we took a cab to Flute, a champagne bar. Which ROCKED OUT LOUD. The decor was cozy chic, with overstuffed pillows and fireplaces. It had romantical nooks for the couples, but was largely an after-work crowd. They had nearly every champagne EVAR but we ignored the "hooker drink" stigma and chose a couple of champagne cocktails. Which ROCKED OUT LOUD. Champagne sangria was good...so was something they called the "Marquis de Sade" and the "Bellini-tini". mmmm...

Then we went searching a place to eat. And found The Watering Hole. We sat at the bar and ordered french fries and blueberry Stoli & sodas. We had fun, chatting with the bartenders and each other, daring the bartender to "make me something pink...that's not a Cosmo" and "make me something green...without creme de menthe".

Around midnight, I went to the bathroom. And that's when things started going downhill. On the way back to the bar, I got clucked at and asked to dance. At a bar where there was basketball on the big screens and no dancefloor. Yeah. Not long after returning to my seat, Drunk Mike came over and started eating our french fries. He proceeded to tell us about Tiger Woods, tips for handling New York and inquire as to why I wasn't married. At which point, we got the heck out of dodge.

Cupcakes, pink drinks and a speedy escape from Drunk Mike...not a bad night. Oh yeah, and our clients were happy. All in all, a good trip.