Polishing My Halo

This was one of those glorious weekends where I miraculously managed to behave myself while everyone around me seemed to be making complete asses of themselves. (This incidentally also makes me kind of want to get smashed and join the club, but that will clearly have to wait at least a couple of days).

Almost all of the mess occurred on Friday night. It started with a couple of fantastic quotes from our creative director, who had just claimed that she's fine when she drinks champagne all night, which drew a few incredulous looks from myself and a couple of colleagues in hearing distance who can all remember at least one or two instances that would serve as evidence to the contrary.

I had just said I wished it was easier to embarrass people in the office, and she responded with "Well, not to sound un-PC, but there are so many dark people in the office it makes it hard to tell!" This was followed by her saying to someone else "I know you're not supposed to say this, but I just don't like Aboriginal art." Which isn't that bad in itself, but it was all about the drunken delivery. (I also love when people start comments with "Not to sound un-PC...", cause you know it's always gonna be comedy gold.)

She finally headed to leave and ended up getting lost trying to find the exit and walking through a bush in order to finally make it out of the bar. Fantastic.

But that was nothing in comparison to the stories I heard this morning (since I was a good boy and headed home around 10). First, there is Bug, who apparently just started throwing up at the table my coworkers were all sitting at. She then outdid herself when one of the directors came to give her some napkins and she vomited all over his hand.

Think that's the worst that it can get? So did I. Until Abs arrived in the office and told us how according to someone else (since he doesn't remember himself), he was seen leaving the bar with some girl he had just met around 1am. He then woke up at 5am in a random backyard in the Sydney suburbs. But it gets better. He went back to sleep, and woke up 2 hours later and saw the laundry nearby and started washing his shirt since it was covered in stains. When the owner of the house found him and asked him why he was there, Abs simply responded with "I'll just finish washing my shirt, and then I'll leave." And then walked home, which took about an hour.

Sorry for all the italics in those last few sentences, but it was really the most subtle way I could come up with to convey how ridiculous this all sounds, despite it being true. I make jokes about waking up in random gutters or back yards, only because I didn't think it actually happened to anyone (with the possible exception of Margot Kidder), so I think this story might win the Asshole Award for 2007.

Then again, I still have almost three months to lodge another entry in that competition...