It was fun for a while because it was a private party and the show staff was busty getting lit and dancing up a storm. I got to watch people make fools of themselves and hit on anything that roved into view. I myself wandered around from group to group engaging in conversation and idle chitchat. I ended up being invited to join the writers and our shows host at a table back in the corner. There were some good laughs and it was a really good time…until the club opened up to the public.
The paying crowd in one of these places seems like all of the depressed drunks I used to see in the bars I hung out at. A lot of them looked miserable in their expensive clothes as they drank and screamed to be heard over the music. Maybe I’m getting old (which I am), but it all seemed silly.
The place made awful drinks. They watered down everything. I’d order a cranberry juice and soda water; I’d get a glass of soda water with a splash of cranberry juice. Cheap fucks.
Yesterday was also the Secret Santa shtick. I didn’t really know what to do for my guy, so I got him a gift certificate to Amoeba (awesome in it’s own right) and I wrapped his desk. I figured I’m around late waiting on stuff anyway, so I might as well have some fun.
It went over quite well. I received a lot of high fives and backslapping. You’ll notice I ran out of paper and couldn’t do the inside. A true bummer, but no one seemed to mind. The one comment I kept getting was how hysterical it was that I even wrapped his stapler. I thought wrapping the staple remover was the funniest part, but apparently I misjudged my audience.
We’re now on hiatus, which means I get to twiddle my thumbs and play catch up on movies. Yea for movies!
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