The general rule of thumb is that Holiday Jollies include Holiday parties. However, "in this economy" (my nomination for 2008's Fastest Phrase to Jump the Shark, except that the phrase "Jump the Shark" jumped the shark long before this year) many firms canceled their holiday parties. Months ago my old firm, a large and prestigious one, canceled its holiday party, and just this week that same firm canceled some more of its employees. This does not bode well for the job market.
In recognition of the holiday party cancellations, a friend and an acquaintance (two different people) threw a holiday party featuring a hosted bar and pizza for several hours. Very cool of them. Nice to see such generousity, especially in tough times. It restores a little of my faith in people, which is nice because I don't have all that much to begin with - to paraphrase the Gin Blossoms, if you don't expect too much of people you might not be let down.
I attended another holiday party last night in San Diego. Specifically, this party was at Pure Platinum in Kearny Mesa. This was an invite-only party with a guest list, like pretty much any club in San Diego. Not that I go to Pure Platinum all that often; I don't have a frequent flyer card there or anything, and I wasn't on the first wave of invites. Rather, a friend was invited and he was allowed to invite other friends. So, free boobies? What the hell.
As you might imagine if you didn't click on the link, Pure Platinum is a gentlemen's club. Now, at a holiday party at a gentlemen's club, one might expect to see girls in skimpy "naughty Mrs. Claus" outfits. One would be right.
But what enticed me to show up in the first place was the promise that the party was catered by Benihana. This was untrue, and a disappointment. I hadn't been to a Benihana since a friend's wedding in Hawaii in 1999, and was looking forward to trying it again, if only to confirm that Benihana still exists. However, as a consolation prize there was some pretty good barbeque at the party (beef, chicken, pork) as well as some salad and other goodies. Overall, a good spread.One might also expect to see a bunch of douchebag guys at such a party. One would be right, in spades. I was really surprised at both the quantity and "quality" of the douchebags in the place - we're talking Douchebag All-Stars here, the Top Gun of Douchebags, the Best of the Best. Which of course begged the question(s): what was I doing there? And more importantly, did I belong there? I've been acting kind of douchy myself lately, but I still didn't feel at home there. It's not like I showed up with slicked-back hair wearing jewelry and a blazer, t-shirt and jeans and flirted with strippers all night, so that set me apart from the general population. But were other guys also looking at me like I didn't belong? As I may have mentioned previously, there is a "tall guy" club in San Diego. It's kind of an unspoken thing, but every dude who is about 6'5" or taller tangentially knows each other and gives each other a nod when they're in the same local vicinity. Eventually they'll end up making small talk and complimenting each other on being big motherfuckers. Does a similar club exist for douchebags? Is there some sort of pinkie-ring swear that they do to get into the club? If that club does exist I'm not in it, which I'll take as a good sign.
I was out in Manhattan Beach last weekend, at a dive bar with friends. A group of people from some work party were there, and were dressed pretty festively. Of course there were Santas and naughty elves (though not nearly as naughty as at Pure Platinum), and I did the requisite flirting with one of the elves. A female elf, to clarify. But the strongest costume I saw, and possibly the strongest holiday costume I've ever seen, was the dude who was there dressed as Jesus.
I wasn't even that comfortable dressing as Jesus Quintana from the Big Lebowski because he has "Jesus" written on his bowling shirt, but this dude went all-out as the Messiah. He wasn't carrying a cross on his back or anything, but he definitely had the white robe, the sandals, and the long hair and beard. And to top it off, he was walking around with a Holy Grail. I don't think it was the real Holy Grail, because everyone knows the Grail cannot pass beyond the Great Seal. But I do know that the people around the dude kept his Fake Grail full of real red wine (Jesus Juice?), and the dude didn't spend a dime. Which makes him a genius, and quite possibly a genius who is going to Hell.
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