I refer, of course, to the company party. (What did you think I was talking about?) We've all had our share of these more-or-less obligatory events. Every now and then, it can fun, but most often it's about endurance.
Saturday night, Buster escorted the lovely Mrs. Gammons to her employer's "Winter Party". That's what it said on the PowerPoint slide, and it was a semi-factual statement. Calendar-wise, it was winter.
The dear wife works for a credit union group, and let me tell you, those credit union employees really know how to raise the roof and pump up the volume! Not. In essence, it was a cattle-call -- a mass feeding on the company dime.
The chosen venue was Dave & Buster's (no relation). It was my first time at the establishment. Now I know why I stayed away so long -- it's a big-ass "kid-friendly" arcade. Dave & Buster's has the same ambience and clientele as your average Chuck E. Cheese. Excellent if you're eight years old. Not so hot for two hundred middle-age adults. It's a nice company gesture, but I'm just sayin' . . .
The food was inedible. Two buffet lines of giant chafing dishes filled with once-hot-but-now-cold delicacies like shrivelled, droopy french fries and small mystery-meat slider sandwiches. The only condiments were ranch dressing and taco sauce. They also served us lots of shit-on-a-stick -- chicken, shrimp, or steak (and I use the terms loosely.) I opted for the steak-like substance, pronounced it a "meat-sicle", and took a bite. One bite was enough.
On the plus side, cold beer was available and, as previously noted, it helped.
After this sumptuous repast, there were a few company recognition awards, a couple of prize drawings, and a blessedly brief speech from the CEO. And that was it. We had done our duty. We endured. We went home.
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