Figure One: My place card, up in the nosebleed seats. Apparently I am a “chicken.” Whatevs.

Companion and I went to his holiday party on Saturday night. We got all dressed up and junk, knowing that some people would be wearing ball gowns (there was a fine Scarlet O’Hara number in attendance) and others would be wearing jeans. We were somewhere in between. I just got my hair did, thanks to Supa, so it was krazy baboon’s ass red.

Figure Two: No one will notice that these foot-long eyelashes aren’t real.

As we walked in the door, we were immediately descended upon. I suspect they were eager to bounce us because we were looking pretty non-conservative. Since Companion works for a contracting firm, he didn’t actually know anyone in the room and no one recognized him. But lo, we gave the correct names, and were name-tagged, wined, and sent on our way.

It was supposed to be a sit down dinner with dessert and everything. We scouted our table and found out that we were at the one that was the absolute farthest from the entertainment, which turned out to be a good thing.

As we stood around, we were having that feeling like we should talk to people, but we were having fun talking to each other. But it was not to be, for we were ambushed by the Very Drunk CEO. He had been telling everyone repeatedly that he was about to retire and that this was his last xmas party as official CEO, and that he was stepping down to let his sons take over.

“Oh, hello, there,” he said to us. “I like to meet everyone here.” He chatted with Companion for the shortest amount of time that was still within the range of polite and turned to me.

“SJ!” he said. We were old friends by now. “SJ.” Very Drunk CEO gave a good impression of looking at my nametag, but I suspect he was trying to climb down the front of my dress with his eyes. “SJ? We wondered about your name. We didn’t know if there were dots or not.” He paused, expectantly.

“Well, no,” I said. “But I don’t mind.”

“AHHH, well, that’s good.” By this point his eyes were burning a hole in my cleavage. “AND are YOU in computers?”

“As in porn?” I wanted to ask, but refrained. Although, I bet he would have found that funny. I gave him the standard line that we are both librarians, so, yes. There was more, but I’ll spare you. Apparently I was the most fascinating person there.

“Holy Boobie Looking, Batman!” I said to Companion after Very Drunk CEO finally excused himself. Perhaps he could sense his wife’s eye darts from somewhere on the other side of the room. Companion looked a little frowny on my behalf, but I wasn’t upset. When you wear a low-cut dress, some people look at your boobs. I won’t stand for groping, but if it’s out there, some people can’t control themselves.

Okay, I will stand for groping. You caught me.

I nicked off a couple of times to wander around. Once I photographed a giant gingerbread version of the hotel we were currently in. It was in the lobby.

Figure Three: I dub thee, “Hotel Redonkulous.”

Another time I got in line in the bathroom. A middle-aged drunk woman turned to me and said, “Okay, I have to touch this.” She reached out her shiny claws and petted my hair.

“It’s all real,” I said, as she stroked it.

Another woman at the sinks glanced up. “But not the color,” she said, and laughed.

“No,” I agreed. “My natural color leans more towards blue.”

Later, after the “entertainment” started, I went back to the bathroom to shoot some impromptu porn. Go me! I am going to bring my digital camera everywhere I go from now on.

During dessert Companion told me that the Son of Very Drunk CEO was in the bathroom with him, nonchalantly making gross remarks about one of the other female partygoers who was popping out of her dress in an interesting fashion. (Not me–I was tarty but contained.) We discovered that the apple does not fall far from the tree. Companion was a little disappointed by the reality of his employers.

After dessert we scrammed fast, stuffing as many unclaimed chocolate favors as we could into my purse and our pockets, because that’s how we roll. We walked up to Gameworks and played DDR! SUPER FOOTIE PWNAGE! I know you’re surprised to hear we did that. It was good to work off some of that dinner and wine, because I was a full jerk.

Then we cabbed it to Capitol Hill and ended up at the Bleu Bistro. Things got a little fuzzy after that because I had switched to the hard licks at Gameworks. Whups.

Figure Four: Things are not looking good here. Is that the bouncer coming our way?

Figure Five: Courtney Love, is that you?

But we ended up home okay because we cabbed it all over the place. I never get tired of having a date with my Companion, especially if I am not being screamed at for three hours like yesterday. I’ll be his holiday party bimbo every year!

In Other News: Confidential To

Sweetney: Your package left today.
J.B.: Your package is leaving tomorrow, I SWEAR on the Giant Head of John Travolta
Supa: All Your Cake Plate is Belong to Us
Morgan: 925 on your rings means this
You Know Who: Your pr0n is rar’d