Sunday, December 16, 2007

Party time, party time

Meeting the partners of people you work with is always cool because they never look the way you expect them to. It's always the straight-laced fucker who has some awesome kooky wife with crazy glasses who insists on wearing what looks suspiciously like a pair of curtains, someone always surprises you by turning up with a complete hottie and, this weekend, I nearly put my foot in it after the complete operation breakdown of my (frankly already a piece of shit) gaydar.

Meeting people's partners is fascinating because it gives you a weird insight into their personality that you never get otherwise. I don't just mean you find out if they're a t or a sort of a man but I get bizarre amounts of pleasure watching people interact with their spouses and trying to figure out how their relationship works and what makes it a good match. But, you know, pr'aps that's just me. I might need some hobbies.

In a festive season crammed with Christmas party upon Christmas party these sorts of pleasures are what make the endless work-related festivities bearable, or even worthwhile. I often loathe work parties because it smacks a little of some sort of hideous en masse team building exercise in which we bond over cold sausages and warm wine but this year I've been having a ball. Granted I did make the error of leaving a certain party on Friday night before the fisticuffs broke out (for which I'm still kicking myself, I assure you) but the rest of the time, through several parties, I have rather enjoyed finding out more about current and past colleagues, including who has a degree in classics and the mind of a scholar, who once saw Midnight Oil play three times in one week and who is a total lush. Oh wait that last one was me.

1 comment:

my name is kate said...

Heh you'd never guess, Dans.... oh actually you might...