Monday, December 19, 2005

12/19/05

1:17 a.m.

Boy, is it good to be home. I've spent the last couple of hours catching up on work...wrapped up in my polar fleece robe and sipping a cup of tea.

Boston was fun. I was flown out for the annual Christmas party that my PI firm throws for the managment they haven't yet fired. And since they encouraged us to bring guests, I invited LHM to come out from California for the party.

I had to spend the first day working in the hotel room. That was no fun and I felt bad for LHM because he was stuck watching television instead of touring Boston. The second day the Regional Supervisors met in the morning so that we could go over the same crap that we went over two months ago. That afternoon, the supervisors joined us and we went over the same stuff that we'd gone over that morning. That's about when I fell asleep and Dennis, the Regional sitting next to me, put an orange slice down my pants. I yelp.

"Yes, Polly? Is there a problem?" I look up at the CEO and then scan the room. Everyone is staring at me. I glare at Dennis, who is covering his mouth and trying very hard not to laugh.

"I... uh..." I suddenly remember that one scene in The Sound of Music. You know...the one when Maria sat on the pinecone her first night at dinner with the Captain and the children? The Captain asked her what the matter was and she patted her butt and said, "Rheumatism."

Brilliant.

"I...hemorroids," I say. There is laughter around the room and I can't help but add, "Hemorroids aren't funny, you know. Just wait until you get them." Somebody says something about being the 'butt' of jokes and the conversation spirals downward for a blessed few minutes before we get back to the topic at hand...which I don't recall because I stopped listening two hours ago. I tune out again but decide falling asleep would be inadvisable with jackass Dennis sitting next to me. I might wake up with a mustach drawn on my face. Instead, I get online and almost finish up my Christmas shopping by the time meetings let out at 4:30.

I grab my stuff and head up to my room. When I get inside, I call over to LHM's room, but he's not there. I call his cell. When he answers, he tells me he's shopping for clothes for us for the Christmas party tonight. Huh. My heart gets all gooey and melty. "Aw. That's so sweet of you! You don't have to do that." He assures me he wants to and I hang up the phone with a smile on my face. But then begin to worry about what he might have bought for me to wear. I hope it's not some hideous granny cardigan with Christmas stockings and Santa heads embroidered all over it...

LHM knocks on the door several minutes later and presents me with a long black skirt, a tastful, red sparkly sweater, and a sparkly silver earring and necklace set. He got himself some black dress pants and a red button-down shirt.

LHM leaves my room and as I start getting dressed I realize that we are going to be the annoying dress-alike couple with our red tops and black bottoms. I sigh and shrug. It could be worse. We could be wearing matching t-shirts that have arrows pointing to the other saying, "I'm with stupid."

In a nutshell, the Christmas party was a chance to see a bunch of my coworkers get wasted in a social setting. I had a nice time mingling and getting to know people better. Right before we left, we said goodbye to the CEO. He asked how long we'd be in Boston and I said a couple of days as we were going to do a bit of sightseeing over the weekend. He joked that I'd better spend my days working. LHM, who realizes how hard I work because he was with me for nearly a month, took that as an opportunity to mention that I put in at least 14 hour days and don't get paid nearly enough for my efforts.

Silence. CEO's eyes narrow. LHM stares back at him without blinking...his face expressionless. I am waiting for one of them to expose himself so we can see who's the bigger man once-and-for-all.

After several tortuous seconds of that, I grab LHM's arm. "Um...thanks for the party! G'night!" I pull LHM toward the door, looking over my shoulder once we get there. CEO is still glaring at our backs.

We are silent for a few minutes as we walk through the cold night air. "Well, that was fun!" I say with no small amount of sarcasm.

LHM immediately apologizes but adds, "I just hate that they take advantage of you. Somebody had to tell them how hard you work."

Men. I vascilate between wanting to clock LHM or hug him. So I do both.

17 comments:

Kafaleni said...

1. Hugging is a good way to get him close enough to clock him. Good move!

2. My first thought on the matching outfits was "aaawwww" because even though it can be a little annoying, it's worse when you see a couple out for the evening, who obviously didn't plan their outfits to even remotely co-ordinate. Say LHM had bought his shirt & pants as mentioned, and bought you an electric pink knit dress. THEN you'd really clash, enough so that it would be hard to look at you. Instead you're just vaguely annoying. I could live with that.

Welcome home, hon....
Oh, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

Jeff Meyerson said...

Uhoh, LHM gets Polly fired!

Film at 11.

Anonymous said...

Polly, I am a loyal reader and thoroughly enjoy your writing style and am fascinated by your work. After reading this recent post, I just had to chime in here to say that your LHM is a real gem! :)

Tamara said...

YES YES YES! ATTA BOY, LHM!!!!!
*large grin*

EXCELLENT!!!

guknwgxh - I need the Heimlich.

Sarcasmo said...

Is "Clock him" a euphemism?

If so, WTG LHM!

aulbm - dyslexic trying to spell album?

motw said...

Employment is a three-legged stool: money, duties, personnel. People can and do sacrifice one of those legs if the other two take up the slack. For example, someone will tolerate low pay if they love what they do and who they work with/for. But when more than one of the legs has to be sacrificed, it's time to look elsewhere for employment.

Bravo, LHM! (if you're reading this) Thanks for sticking up for Polly.

ltkrme - light karma? Everything you've always wanted in karma, and less.

Polly P.I. said...

Yeah. LHM is something else. I'm growing quite fond of him.

I just tried to radio him using the walkie talkie feature on my Nextel phone and accidentally hit one of my supervisor's numbers, instead.

Gee...I sure hope I don't get sued for sexual harrassment.

:-)

Anonymous said...

Let's do some math...

LHM staying in a separate room from Polly's.
+
LHM going clothes shopping in Boston.
+
LHM puchasing coordinating outfits.

= LHM should be calling the Bravo network to get on the cast of "Queer Eye."

Polly P.I. said...

Let's do some more math...

LHM respects that I don't sleep around.
+
LHM knew I had nothing to wear to the party and wanted to do something nice for me.
+
LHM likes red and black.

=LHM knows how to treat a lady and there are a lot of guys that could take lessons from him.

Sarcasmo said...

*Three snaps in Z formation*

You GO girl.

Now it's YOUR turn to defend HIM!

Poor little A.Nony Mouse will have to scoot right back to their hole.

p.s. What is it that you don't sleep around? Personally, I can't sleep anywhere near airports or train tracks.

Eleanor said...

WTG Polly!!!

Sounds to me like you and LHM have a terrific arangement - he shops and buys cool stuff that you get to wear!

bjioyh - No, I will NOT give you a bj even though you say it will bring you joy.

Olga said...

A man who shops AND picks out great clothes for you? I bet you looked like the cutest matching couple ever!
*she says trying not to gag*

Seriously, I'm glad that he's making you happy Polly. If anyone deserves it, it's you!


xpigqk: pork sausage used at any fast food joint

Polly P.I. said...

Olga,

Thank you, my friend.

Gag on the pork sausage, dude.

ofytevo: "Coffee To Go!" in a French accent

Cap'n Bob Napier said...

There was a couple in my high school that wore matching shirts every couple of weeks. Really loud identical paisley shirts. Be glad you only had the same colors.

jane said...

polly, you are fucking hilarious. hemorroids. tee, hee. i've gotta remember that.

B-Dubbs said...

Wow Polly! LHM does sound like quite the guy!! Way to go!! :-)

Mike Weasel said...

Hey nobody told me there'd be math on this blog...

cuswr = what you emit when frustrated.