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On Friday, in support of casual day and charity, I dressed up in one piece of a Santa Claus suit. It wasn't anything special, I got the right glove, while the rest of the pieces were shared between the department. The saving grace was that we were at least allowed to wear other clothes as well and considering I have only been working at this company for a couple of weeks I was happy not to bare anything.
It's a strange one though, casual day, seeing as most companies I know are pretty casual in general and almost all have a standard Friday dress-down day anyway. But it's all in the name of good fun and for a good cause, and I got some free food, drinks and a couple of hours away from my computer screen.
The day was a non-event work wise though, and after about 2 hours of actual productive sit down time I left work and made my way to a local hangout near my house. I was meeting my fiance and some of her friends from work, who had a slightly different take on the dress up idea. Kitsch is definitely not cool, but it does turn heads, especially when one girl sitting at our table walked in wearing hot pants and fishnets - I was just thankful that no one made any offers.
And this is where I made my dire mistake of the day. I went out for drinks after work, without any male backup. Well some guys arrived but didn't stay long - they had to leave promptly to steal a fire hydrant, but that is a totally different story.
And there I was, sitting at a table with four girls, listening to a conversation about sex. Not just any sex I soon learnt, though. I also found out that my antics from the previous night had become topic of conversation in a female dominated office for the day and now I was sitting amongst them. Not quite the enemy, but definitely individuals who now knew some of my most sinister secrets and dirty tricks. Well, I say NOW knew, they've probably known for ages.
It's funny how the conversations between men-only and women-only groups differ so much, contrary to what Hollywood will let us believe. Not that I have even the smallest iota of information into the women conversations, I was just given a slightly tipsy sneak-preview of the whole affair. I mean generally guys will gather for the weeks first smoke break early on Monday morning, and the conversation will go something like -
"So, did you?".
"Yep".
"Was it good?.
"Yep".
"Cool".
And that's it, it's all we need to know. In fact, most of the time just the first two lines of dialogue are needed, if the topic comes up at all.
Then we get to the girls, and for the purposes of keeping bandwidth usage to a minimum and not clogging up the servers with pages of dialogue, I will skip out on the conversation. Ok, fine, I have no clue about what they talk about. But, I do know it includes a lot of detail that I would rather be kept private.
So, I sat. I listened. I heard all about vibrators, a variety of toys that will keep any girl in raptures for hours (or minutes), depending on the recharge time. At that stage, I ordered another drink and pretended to listen to the rest of the conversation while making as much noise in my head.
I still can't quite figure out though if I have to be afraid, just a little bit of another player coming into the bedroom and stealing my limelight, someone along the lines of Mr Perfect, Danny The Dolphin, The Rabbit? My mind boggles, but at least I have become the topic of coversation for just one day, I must be doing something right.
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