Drunken colleagues

It’s funny watching old people get drunk. It’s funnier when they’re my colleagues.

It’s my second night in Tahoe for a work function and the Embassy Suites here has a free happy hour for hotel patrons, and apparently it’s very popular. Usually, I’m all up for the free drinks (anybody who knows me knows that). But in this case, it’s different. I’m working and I’m trying to establish myself with these people as someone who is responsible, in control, and knows her boundaries.

So, I ordered a margarita on the rocks and joined my coworkers for bar snacks and a little bit of a debriefing of the day’s activities. We watched our colleagues walk pass us with drinks, some with one in each hand and one with drinks carried on a dining tray heading up to his room. I started to wonder if I’m working with a bunch of alcoholics and if, for once, I wasn’t the lushiest in the bunch.

We joined everyone for the evening social and raffle. People were making a little commute from that conference to room the bar regularly, and growing increasingly wobbly in the process. I had never seen a group of people get so excited about a raffle before. People were jumping up and down for sweatshirts, mugs, and office supplies. One man even took his shirt off to reveal a scrawny and naked body.

I can’t wait to get back home to San Francisco.