Tis the Season

Hugh works in your average redneck truck shop. Many of them come into the shop the night after a "big game" not just hung over but actually still drunk. Their speech is liberally peppered with f-words and good grammar is what's considered a 4-letter word. My favourite is how they break up words with the f-word where there is just not a nat-f-ing-ural break in the word. There was a time when some of the men pulled their manly parts into shapes like the "batwing" or the "goat" and tried to surprise each other into looking. I am happy to say Hugh has refrained from joining in the fun of that game. At least as far as I know...

Next friday, a week from today is Hugh's staff Christmas party. Apparently it gets pretty wild. One year at the Christmas party a Foreman went home with the wife of a Parts Guy. Another year somebody thought it would be a good idea to light fireworks. That's always nice for the holidays. Of course it's better when the fireworks are an outdoor display. The Christmas party is no longer held at that particular hotel.

To be honest I'm not really looking forward to going. I know that I am generalizing about rednecks here and I know some of them and their wives will be great. But what on earth am I going to have in common with the couples who think UFC and a box of wine (so much more romantic than a 6-pack) is a good date night?

The other thought that is bringing me a little stress is the ever important question of what to wear. The party is a dinner and dance at a hotel banquet room so I assume it's sort of dressy. But you never know how people are going to interpret dressy. If I get all glammed up and discover everyone else thought dressy meant trashy Mariposa that's one thing. But what if I show up all glammed out and discover that everyone bought their outfits at the John Deere store in the mall? In case you're wondering if you read that right let me assure you it's true. John Deere, synonymous with farm equipment, has a clothing line. Who knew? On the other hand if they do buy their "dress flannels" at John Deere I don't exactly want to blend in. That tractor green really does nothing for me.

In a situation like this there's really only one thing to do. Start with a martini.