Judge Not
I just don’t get it. I mean, what part of, “I got drunk and hugged another co-worker tonight,” do you not understand?
I know I’m a hypocrite. I know it violates nearly everything I stand for. But what do you want me to say – that I didn’t do it? I’m not going to lie to you. I’m not ashamed. Well, yes, actually I am, but that’s not the point.
It’s only Wednesday, and this has been one of the most stressful weeks of my entire working life. So maybe I convinced my out-of-town co-worker to come out to dinner to my new favorite restaurant (Avec – which you must all go to, now. E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E. of you. Now!). And maybe we drank a bunch of carafinas of wine. And perhaps, just perhaps, one carafina of wine equates to half a bottle, and maybe I drank two and a half carafinas, which equates to… wait… let’s do the math… carry the one… I DRANK SEVEN BOTTLES OF WINE TONIGHT!
But why is that wrong? I don’t understand why everyone is judging me. Do you not recall that I was trapped in a fucking basement for 60 of the longest minutes of my life this past weekend? (And yes, I spelled out the whole swear… I’m that drunk.)
And here’s what else happened. My awesome and well-intentioned out-of-town co-worker expensed our expensive dinner, which means my company got me fat-bellied drunk tonight. And I noticed that my delightfully sweet but small-town co-worker left kind of a cheap tip, so I convinced him that he needed to go to the bathroom before getting on his plane, and while he was in the bathroom, I gave the waiter some more money, telling him that there was a mistake on the tip. He was confused at first, then smiled, and touched my arm in a way that told me that if his inclination didn’t lean in a different direction, he would most certainly have married me right there.
Since this is soon to become the only restaurant I ever eat at, I must treat the wait staff well, and they will return the favor in kind.
There was a moment tonight when I had the most perfect bite of pasta Bolognese, preceded by the most perfect forkful of artichoke and mushroom salad, followed by the most perfect sip of some Spanish red whose name I cannot recall, and at that exact moment, I felt jealous of myself. I wanted to be me so badly that I almost hated myself. Why did I deserve to be so happy when I was so very stressed? It just wasn’t fair.
And yet it was.
So now I am home, fat-bellied drunk on the company dime, and so green with envy that I can’t even look at myself. I hope you can all come with me next time. I promise to hug you.
Filed under: General on March 8th, 2006
March 8th, 2006 at 8:53 pm
drunk on the company dime and still with the gall to complain.
i tip my hat, missy!
March 8th, 2006 at 9:35 pm
Ok, no fair… you didn’t tell me at Jess’s place that you were “company-dimed-tipsy”!
Absolutely no judging here.
Lucky you. If I were you, I’d envy you, too. Or something like that.
Have a good night, Jenny.
March 9th, 2006 at 7:31 am
Jenny, you’re beautiful when you’re drunk.
March 9th, 2006 at 7:31 am
Ohhhh… if it wasn’t the Month of Me, this would be posted as the quote of the day right now:
“I wanted to be me so badly that I almost hated myself.”
The beauty of that quote makes up for spelling out the whole swear.
March 9th, 2006 at 7:49 am
[rubs eyes and holds head to stop the pounding]
Wha… huh? Who wrote this stupid entry? WTF?
Seriously. Effective immediately, I am installing a breathalizer on my pc.
But I really was jealous of myself.
March 9th, 2006 at 7:57 am
brandon: i know… i’m so ashamed. nice hat, by the way!
mary: yeah, i should probably avoid bidding on auctions when i’m under the influence.
peef: you’re gorgeous when you lie.
sween: thank god – i was so worried that my vulgarities would put me out of the running for becoming America’s Next Top Canadian.
jenny: why are you commenting again on your own post?
March 9th, 2006 at 8:29 am
First of all, I can’t wait to eat at Avec when I’m in town this month. Secondly, I fully expected to be hugged anyway (drunk or not) and lastly, your admitted altered state explains your $457.39 bid on my bad art!
March 9th, 2006 at 11:25 am
Dude, you are so cute when you are BWI! (Blogging While Intoxicated) I’m almost tempted to send you bottles of booze, you muffin!
March 9th, 2006 at 11:53 am
I don’t know what sound more exciting if I come to town — eating at that restaurant or getting that hug.
March 9th, 2006 at 12:30 pm
You’ve made me hungry AND I’m craving wine now…whine whine whine. Can you tell I didn’t get treated to anything on the company dime last night?
March 9th, 2006 at 1:39 pm
Jess: i’ll make it so. nat and dee-dee love the restaurant, too, so perhaps we can have a formal reunion!
Tracy Lynn: Crap! This is my third BWI this year – I’m totally going to get my blogging license revoked! And you should definitely send bottles of booze…
neil: Hard to say, but a 20% tip will be required for either option.
sandra: you just need to trick some unsuspecting out of town colleague to take you out. discuss business for at least 10 minutes, consume much wine, and expense the whole thing!
March 9th, 2006 at 2:49 pm
God, I LOOOOOOVE being taken out on the company dime. I am so jealous.
I love drunk blogging.
March 9th, 2006 at 6:47 pm
Since we’re not co-workers, and I DO have the hugger gene, plan ahead to be drunk enough to receive a hug from me at TequilaCon. We know you have a weakness now, don’t expect the huggers among us not to exploit it.
March 11th, 2006 at 1:16 pm
The last time I did some BWI (see comment above) –last night, actually– it took me three hours to write one sentence. Got up this morning and noted that my sentence did not make any sense. At all. Even though I had read it and reread it 587 times to make sure it was okay before publishing.
You and I experience different levels of intoxication, I can tell.
March 11th, 2006 at 4:30 pm
Are you still drunk Jen? Your evening sounded wonderful. Now it’s the weekend so I hope you’re fully functioning.
March 12th, 2006 at 9:07 pm
I’m just jealous cause I bet Chicago or wherever you are now that you’re Canadian has better St. Patrick’s stuff to do than Sacramento. That’s all.