Tonight Mandy and I will be going to my firm's holiday party. When I first arrived at the firm back in 1991 it was a lawyers-only affair (the staff were given their own party) and it was held in the Diego Rivera room at the Detroit Institute of Arts. Eventually this seemed like a waste and so the thing was changed to include everyone in the Detroit-area offices (the outlying offices had their own parties), and it was moved to a new venue, usually the Ritz-Carlton in Dearborn. This year the party will include everyone from all the offices, it will be a strolling dinner, and it will be held at the Henry Ford Museum. I am not looking forward to this and am not even sure why I'm going. First, I don't like to stroll while I eat. I can't manage a plate and a drink at the same time and something will land on my front. Second, I get tired standing up for long periods of time. Third, some 800 people have signed up to attend and I despise crowds, the noise caused by crowds, and the bumping and jostling attendant thereto. Fourth, the people at my firm are boring. Unbelievably boring. Having a conversation with these people is pain, pure pain. Fifth, there are too many lawyers in my firm who don't handle their booze well and invariably get nasty when they drink. They think being bluntly rude for the sake of being bluntly rude is comedic, and regularly do so when they've had a few. Not a clue. When confronted with a dickish drunk my default is to rip off their balls and shove them in their mouth. One can't do this, however, especially during the holiday season, so I'm left to spend my evening in a perpetual state of resistance. So I'm not looking forward to this event however much Mandy might be looking forward to it. I'm not sure she is, but she does like getting dressed up and playing the arm candy for her men. This seems demeaning to me, but she doesn't see it that way. She enjoys it.
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