We suffered through the one-two punch of company holiday parties this weekend: mine and then Richard’s. Although both were trying in their own ways, there were a few subtle differences between the two.
Mine: a flurry of air-kissing that leaves you stunned and disoriented
His: high-fives and cries of “Get yourself a goddamned beer already!”
Mine: salsa music provided by what looked eerily like the Gipsy Kings
His: Snoop Dogg, by way of karaoke
Mine: a salsa contest that we — clearly — did not enter
His: breakdancing and the Cupid Slide
Mine: ice sculptures and crystal chandeliers
His: a disco ball
Mine: five-night ski package to Vail
His: nose-hair clipper set and walkie-talkies
We didn’t win the ski package, unfortunately. But we won one of many runner-up gifts. Was it the $200 Perry’s Steakhouse gift certificate? The spa package at Trellis? The humidor?
No. It was an Ab-Lounger.
Nothing says Merry Christmas like a present that says, “Maybe you should focus on firming up your midsection a little there, Porky.”
Guess which holiday party was more fun? Here’s a hint: not the Ab-Lounger party.