Sonntag, 28. November 2010

Saturday night blast

My friend Julia takes me to a party that she has been invited to by the boss of an agency that is taking its 10th birthday as an occasion to celebrate it big on the office premises. The T-Shirts the employees are wearing let everybody know that the agency is "becoming 10 years". Regarding the fact that the name and logo is all bee related maybe they should have put "beecoming 10 years", instead of making it clear that somebody didn´t have a clue. The bar is packed and we start ordering several beers at once just to save us the hazzle. The boss has fallen off his motor bike just this morning, has something in his arm snapped and looks pained, vacation cancelled, surgery on Thursday. I hope the little dog being dragged around is already deaf, otherwise he will most likely be so by the end of the night. There are two entertainers but they are already wrapping up, then there is a DJ.
We check out the other people and we quickly find out that the guy not saying a word all night next to us is the company´s computer guy. The guys on the other side apparently work at Siemens and are pretty stuck up and don´t loosen up a bit in the course in the evening. The girl in front of us starts talking to my friend in English. "Apparently she´s from abroad, she speaks English", Julia tells me.
We ask her where she is from. She replies: "I´m from Germany but I thought you were from Israel." "No, we´re German", we reply in German. Apparently a misunderstanding.
The night goes on and as we don´t really know anybody apart from my neighbor who turns out to be working here we do all the embarrassing things. We sing along loudly and into each other´s beer bottles and dance around wildly, there is definitely some drinking going on. The little dog is thirsty and starts drinking out of a beer puddle on the floor where somebody has dropped a bottle. Somebody brings the dog a bowl of water.
"The guy to your left is taken, he is with my sister. But the guy to your left is free", the girl from before tells me. Apparently another misunderstanding.
"Thank you, but I am also very definitely taken", I reply.
More for us to giggle. Almost nobody is dancing, the DJ is trying really hard. We don´t care, even better for us. We figure out that other people can´t let go that easily and talk about work even at 2 a.m.
Every time I go get drinks the barmen tell me what´s out. Gin? Out. Lime? Out. Icecubes? Don´t even ask. Aperol? Ha, funny. Prosecco? Gone hours ago.
When we decide to leave we find the other guy Julia knows and he introduces us to a friend. "Are you from Israel?" This is really strange. We shake our heads. "I just got back from Israel and you guys look like you were from Israel."
Someone hands me a small bag of fizzy powder and a shot of wodka. I empty the contents into my hand and someone counts to three. I slap the hand to my mouth. Half the powder misses my mouth and most of the rest hits my windpipe. I try in vain to wash it down with the shot. The fizzy stuff explodes in my mouth. Coughing I try to calm down. That was a first. I find my way to the restroom and with one ear hear the guy asking my friend if we work for Mossad. When I get back they are still going on about it and I decide that the inflationary use of the word Mossad at this hour is too much.
I manage to get Julia out.
"You guys don´t work here, do you?" a guy we say bye to asks. "No, more fun for us that way!"
I find her and me a taxi. What a great night!

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