This is my first week at my new job. All the people, with the exception of one or two, have been generous and kind with their words and time, showing me all the important stuff, such as where the bathroom and vending machines are.
We just had an "open-house" thingie last night, with a caterer, 3-piece jazz band, wine and Texas Hold 'Em tables. Frankly, and this might just be a Michigan thing that I'm not quite getting, I'm not seeing much of a correlation between Texas Hold 'Em and wine. Or jazz.
Not much of a jazz fan and, since I was committed to providing massages, wine wasn't an option. Of course, I don't drink, so wine was never really an option, anyway. But I digress.
It's always interesting to see people who look so serious, reserved and professional during the day at one of these after-hours affairs. They get a few glasses of wine in themselves, and they're ready to start jousting each other with the wooden fondue sticks. Or they become convinced that THIS is the night their world-class musical talent will finally be revealed for all of their co-workers to marvel at.
THIS is the night they will take the first step toward realizing their long-repressed dream of becoming a renowned jazz musician by shoving the current musician out of the way, grabbing his instrument (and by "instrument", I mean his saxophone, you dirty-minded bastards) and enthusiastically launching into a rousing rendition of AC/DC's "Back in Black" or Pachelbel's "Canon in D Minor", depending on the listener and amount of alcohol in aforementioned listener's bloodstream and they, the heretofore repressed musical genius, will blush at the resulting tumultous applause and, in a poignant and heartrending speech, claim that they, the genius, will remove their shirt for five dollars.
Honestly, you can't buy this kind of entertainment. Unless, of course, you've got five dollars.
1 comment:
Give it to some chick so she'll take her shirt off. God knows that's probably the only way you'll ever see a naked woman.
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