I’ve been ranting all day about the pitiful pickings at this year’s xmas party and I feel that one piece may help erase the memory of last night forever.
First of all a disclaimer: I don’t like Xmas parties. This is the one time of the year that I have to make small talk with people I’ve managed to avoid all year round and pretend to take an interest in their lives. Why I still do it is beyond me but, I live in the vain hope that one year it will be worth it. One day I will walk in and there will be my black santa.
Pounded Yam and Marathon Man
So first there was Mr Pounded Yam. Wait, no on the way I broke a nail. I took this to be a bad omen as it was one on my left hand. I should have just turned around and walked straight home.
After Pounded Yam we had Mr Marathon is 33.4 miles who like Pounded Yam thought that South West London was posh. Technically I live in West according to the government and Croydon doesn’t seem posh to me but I digress. It was yet another conversation that I didn’t really want to have. He told me that he had a new job but that they were working him really hard. I asked if he were getting paid more than his previous role and he said yes. So why was he surprised that he was having to work harder? I asked how long he’d been at the job and he said 2 weeks and he had had to work late!
Now for me as someone who has to hustle for every contract and tender as a self employed somebody I clearly don’t understand why he thought this would evoke sympathy. You work in banking and get paid decent money. Get over it!
Left of centre dude
There was also the guy who talked about how he would undress me in the bar
Him: I love your outfit
Him: So you’re santa’s little helper
Me: No I’m santa’s saucy mistress
Him: I know what I need to do. I need to undo the top and take off the belt and then just watch the dress fall to the floor
Me: See this is how I know you don’t know what you’re talking about. This is a tight fitted dress. And when was the last time you saw a dress fall over African hips and onto the floor?
*walks away whilst he thinks about it*
He came back and found me later. Apparently he’d heard that I was throwing a NYE party and wanted in. I told him that I had too many men coming. The real issue is that his friend annoys me and pulled out a few years ago because he didn’ t want to pay for parking. Dude then threatened to cut off his penis to get into the party. He said he was having the chop on 27th December and started making violent chopping actions over his penis. I winced in pain and waltzed away.
The tilapia turn off
There was the guy who asked me when I was organising a party to celebrate Mandela as it was my duty. This tilapia looking idiot always finds something stupid to say every time I see him. We got into a heated debate as his friend had stolen a bottle of Jack Daniels and perfume from my house party. He argued that this Becky was a doctor so didn’t need to steal. I told him that his cheap looking PETA unapproved fur coat wearing drunken lush did it. The perfume was half used! I must stop talking to him fullstop. If Winona Ryder and Antony Worrall Thompson then doctors can steal especially when drunk and (they think) acting cute.
The ex strikes back
Of course there was the ex who avoided me most of the night and then tried a last minute play attempt. He spent more time telling my friends that he had messed up and if he could he would clone me but I’m not buying it. So here’s the thing, if you were genuine you would act right and not like a child. I can’t with this mess anymore. It makes me look bad. The late night texts of wanting to show me how he’s changed also range false. I pretended to be asleep whilst posting photos of me dressed as Santa’s slutty mistress all over the internet. That’s 10 weeks of 2013 I will never get back.
Santa’s slutty mistress helpers
Of course there were the really sweet guys like the one that came in fancy dress but it was just a slightly large bow tie so we weren’t sure bless him. Or the one that wore a Santa hat all night long because he believes in the spirit of the fancy dress. Or the manager of the bar who gave us all a free shot of apple sour. Yes there were a few but these darlings were over shadowed by the pricks.
Hey ho, there is always next year. I’ve got to go my precious. Got to get my outfit ready for NEW YEAR’S EVE!
© Chelsea Black