Saturday night was my husband's office holiday shindig. We haven't been to one in several years - no party in 2009, I was 11,000 years pregnant in 2008 - and he's trying very hard to get promoted. We went this year.
Now, my husband can be very apologetic in advance, anticipating the sour mood I might be in whenever he calls upon me to play my role as Dave's Spouse in a social setting. I won't say he's entirely unreasonable in being wary, but, I confess I am sometimes offended by just how much he seems to brace for these occasions. I assure you that I am capable of behaving with a small measure of civility when the occasion calls for it.
So, the office holiday shindig. @ fretted over whether to go. The party was a hike from where we live, a good 45 minute drive to an outer suburb. On the other hand, it was also important to show willing and make nice with folks, especially in light of the fact that he's hoping to parlay his newly minted MBA into a hard-to-come-by-even-in-a-better-market promotion. Somehow, I got the sense that my behavior was also the wild card.
What I did to deserve that dubious honor, I don't know. I assure you that the most conflict I have ever provoked at one of his holiday parties is that I have never been able to have a mojito at one of them. (True story: out of four office parties at different locations, I have met the only four bartenders in the US who do not seem to know how to put together a mojito.)
The evening began poorly. Yet another clueless bartender. Then we somehow ended up at the table of the COO and two vice presidents. Ooops.
Dinner was unremarkable. Of course, the table was preoccupied by the shocking lack of water at the table, and the fact that the COO was served much later than the rest of the table.
During dinner, the DJ announced there would be karaoke. Oh! Yay! I love karaoke! I've never done it in front of strangers, but no matter. Love it anyway. I love singing popular songs at the top of my lungs off-key. I appreciate it when others do the same in the spirit of good fun and cheer.
I guess I am in the minority. The DJ groveled for volunteers. It was really quite sad. No one wanted to sing. One guy got up to sing, but he doesn't count since he's in a rock band. Then the COO sang, to "get the party started".
Finally, I couldn't take it. We've all read The Tipping Point - well, I haven't, but let's not get bogged down in details - all it takes is for a critical mass of influential people to join in for something to become a trend. Surely, I could be an "influential person" if I faked a little moxie. Moxie comes cheap in a room full a people I won't see again until next year.
I got up and sang "Friends in Low Places". (My first choice was "Prop Me Up Beside the Jukebox", but I thought Joe Diffie might be too country for the half-Japanese crowd.)
I was flat. It was awful. I was afraid I'd made a fool of myself in front of my husband's co-workers. I couldn't meet his eyes for fear of his mortified expression.
Oddly, my dreadful singing was considered a bit of a triumph. The COO and VPs came up to him during and after the song to comment on how wonderful it was that I got up to sing. I was declared charming! Beautiful! A good sport! *whew*
All the way home, he kept saying he was proud of me. And for once, I earned my habitually smug expression.
(My plans to be the pebble that starts the landslide failed. Only one more person, another partner, got up to sing after me.)
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