This year the decision was made to hold the office Christmas party at an external venue. (Translation: Somewhere not filled with guns, tactical gear and computers that can initiate a global crisis. Also somewhere that isn’t likely to be the focus of a hostile incursion) so instead we went to the local pub.
The whole thing was pretty standard; drinking, laughing, ill-advised flirting (not me!) and of course more drinking.
The night was going okay, although I have to admit watching men gaze longingly at Katie is starting to wear a little thin (especially due to the fact that they always seem to be men I fancy.) She and Mister Cutie Pie were all over each other again and Michael was sitting in the corner pretending to listen to co-workers while in reality staring at the two of them like a lost puppy. (He’s even handsome when he’s sad, sigh.)
Oh that reminds me of a very awkward incident which became the exact moment I decided to leave the party before I got drunk enough to do (or say) something I would regret. (Although in hindsight an upsetting portion of my life is spend doing both of those things.)
Anyway where was I? Oh yes, awkward moment number 5 billion in my life…
Simple equation: Alcohol + Man I fancy, who is in love with my best friend + fact that said man and I nearly kissed due to his being heart broken over best friend + mistletoe = awkward smiling, peck on cheek followed by strategic and swift exit.
As if that wasn’t fun enough for the night what followed was a cherry on top of the wonderful night. (sarcasm)
Grab coat. Leave bar. Get feeling someone is following me. Dismiss feeling and attribute to being excessively tipsy. Feel hand grab arm. Get pulled round corner of pub. Find self face to face with prick.
The night is complete.
I asked him what he was doing there (with a little more venom than is probably advisable… I can’t help it! He brings it out!) but he seemed more concerned with why I had left the party so early. He theorised to himself, as I stood there wishing the ground would swallow me, that it as due to “…that awkward mistletoe incident.” And commented “Not exactly how you pictured it while sitting at your desk hopelessly fantasising for hours on end was it?” (You know what I’d rather the ground swallowed him up. Prick.)
It wasn’t until he touched a rather raw nerve by saying “Or perhaps it was the bland looking bureaucrat wrapped around the blonde. The one that you couldn’t take your eyes off?” that I tried to walk away from him. He grabbed my arm and asked in that sly, irritating voice, “Tell me Friday do you really think she didn’t know you liked him?”
(This caught my attention. )
I turned wide eyed and spluttered “What!? Who?” but before I had finished stuttering he responded “Both of them.” I could feel my face burn with humiliation as I asked him how he knew. He spoke as he pulled me round the building, “Because you are the least subtle person in the entire country. It is, in fact, one of your more endearing qualities.”
Pushing me out in front of him, holding my shoulders, he aimed me so I could see into the window of the pub. Looking at all my co-workers as he started explaining that Katie hadn’t cared that I liked the two men. I told him he was lying (weakly) He carefully explained that it was my friends and co-workers who were lying. That Katie “feigns modesty when she knows better.” And that Michael “pretends to be cautious” because “He would rather see people die than be seen as a villain.” Going further he explain that director Moore would gladly see us all “suffer in unimaginable ways and sleep soundly that same night.”
And as he talked something horrifying came into my mind. I knew he was telling the truth. (at least this time.)
Once he had finished toying with my sense of reality he explained that he was there to collect on his favour. That I was going to hear about a file named “Prometheus” and that I had to ensure that they “Under no circumstances, come into possession of this file.”
There was no indication of how this would be done, (nor did he bother to explain what was in the file, prick.) He just gave me those instructions, threw about a few more prick like remarks and then disappeared.
Leaving me with a strong desire for more alcohol…
… and a man in my life who wasn’t either evil or obsessed with my best friend.
Sigh.
