Whoa.

When you live in a small town, a night out is a big deal.

When you work for a hospital and in all liklihood wear scrubs every day to work, a night out (in which you dress UP) is a big deal.

Alcohol makes people do some really dumb things. 

Aaaaaaaand, that about sums up Chris' work holiday party.  It was the last big work obligation we had for the holiday season, I was NOT looking forward to it, having just rid myself of a cold (but carrying the remnants in my chest) and not being a dancer, a drinker or a great lover of a crowd myself, but I AM an excellent wife and so I went.

People, when I say this was a BIG deal, it was a BIG deal.  There were over 2000 (two THOUSAND) people there.  The door was better gaurded than the White House, since we had NO party crashers and the White House DID.  The invitation said semi-formal attire.  I take that to mean nice-ish dresses.  Suits for the men-folk.  And for the most part, the men folk didn't disappoint. 

Can I just say one word to the Women?

Ladies, a DRESS should COVER your body.  A halter top, a LACE halter top, spaghetti straps, or a swimsuit, DO NOT count as a DRESS.  If it's transparent, it does NOT count as a DRESS. 

Ok, I think I covered it.  HA!  Covered!

Anyway.  There were two rooms set up with tables and food and live music.  One was supposed to be a more subdued jazz band type room (intended for the senior citizens) and the other was the Uproarious Room.  What it turned out to be was one room (intended for the senior citizens) with a live band that played Mustang Sally all night and the Uproarious Room with a band specializing in club covers.

Chris and I started out in the Senior Citizen room.  I don't get out much and as such I'm out of the habit of social behavior.  We both agreed it would be best to break me in gently.  So we made the rounds, shook some hands, made chit-chat (which is the most appropriate term for the mindless small-indeed- talk that it involves).  We headed over to the Uproarious Room and made more rounds, shook more hands, even more chit-chat.  I may have suggested that one of Chris' co-workers should consider marketing an Action Figure of herself because Chris' praise of her was that grand.  I may also have said at one point that I just don't have the talent for being a trophy wife.

I may have been trying to insure that Chris never makes me go to these sorts of functions again.

I may also have failed.

Because in the midst of all of it, I also managed to have an intelligent conversation about hand-guns with a doctor who is also part-owner of a shooting gallery, and a reasonably comical conversation with a board member about Georgia Football.  And I was left to ask myself, What has HAPPENED to you, M?  Oh how the MIGHTY have FALLEN!  How is it possible that you can have a reasonable conversation about GUNS and then turn around and have another intelligible conversation about FOOTBALL?! 

I made the mistake of asking Chris about it and he said, "Yeah, you live in the South now."  I suppose I've adapted after all.

Anyway, I was told all manner of CRAZY (so crazy as to qualify for 3 syllables and be KA-RAY-ZY) stories of Parties of Years Past.  Of drunken revelry, of exposed breasts, of dancing on the tables, of public maulings, of public humiliations necessitating transport by ambulance.  Alas, we didn't really see any of that this year.  For I have been sick and did not really want to be there, so we arrived at 7:30 and left by 10pm.

But we did see some CRAZY stuff by my standards.  OLD people DANCING.  OLD people groping other OLD people.  Which, ok, yes, that's lovely that you still have that kind of FIRE in your life, but DUDE.  Keep it at HOME.  We don't want to see that.  Then there were the young people dancing...if it can be called dancing.  Public exhibition is how I would have described it.  I was mortified by the behavior of a few, apparently, classless women.

I was really only miffed at one point in the evening when the singer called for all the LADIES to come up on the stage and "SHAKE WHAT YOUR MAMA GAVE YOU!"  I'm sorry.  I didn't realize this was THAT kind of party.  And dude, Why just the WOMEN?  If you're going to have public exhibitions of your body, then why not exploit men and women alike?  I was annoyed.  MORE annoyed at the SCORES of women who WENT.  Many of them old enough to be my MOTHER! 

I strongly suspected that we no longer live in a civilized culture, the evening merely confirmed my suspicion.

By far, the funnest parts of the evening were when Chris and I could sneak off together and just talk.  I cracked a few jokes and he laughed and oh, how I love to make him laugh.  He's my toughest crowd, so when I can make him laugh I know I've struck gold.

And I know it might be gross, but I love to see what people EAT when there are buffets on the offereing.  This one guy had nothing but MEAT (ham, turkey and shrimp) on his plate.  And it was PILED 4 inches DEEP!  I am NOT exaggerating.  Chris wanted to look but the guy was a BIG guy and Chris also wanted to make it out alive.

Otherwise we were part of a handful of people NOT drinking, which was fine...except that I still don't get it.  I don't get why such activity is FUN.  I don't get the point of it.  Imbibing a chemical to relax you enough to act like an idiot.  It makes no sense to me at all.  But then, I'm a rational teetotaler. 

All in all, I'm gald it's over and done with.  Now we can get on to the really fun stuff!  On to Athens this week!  Cookie plates and secret-santa-ing!  Caroling and trying to learn a new crafty craft!  On with Dickens!  On to the New Year.