CinS' office is based in Rockefeller Center and each year his firm throws a holiday party the night of the tree lighting so friends and family can hang out with Al Roker and catch the latest teen sensations perform on the ice rink. In case you don't have NBC where you live, the tree lighting "spectacular" is tonight. I'm hoping to see a Jonas Brother. Actually, I'm really hoping for the cast of Heroes to present David Cook signing "American Boy" whilst the SYTYCD crew krumps. I know I'm mixing networks on this one, but a girl can dream right?
The punch line of the party is that from inside the hallowed walls of CinS firm, you can't see jack, and end up watching the tree lighting on TV in the conference room. Oh well. Free food and booze peppered with awkward small talk can't be beat!
But I am honestly looking forward to tonight's affair. Last year, CinS hadn't been with the firm too long so we spent part of the night hiding in his office eating lasagna. Like all good networkers do. This year, CinS has loads of peeps and is planning to pimp me out by adding my company name to my nametag so he can claim me as a potential client.
The only thing I am not looking forward to is the next morning, when I need to get up at 4am to go to the airport to fly in for my own holiday party. Way too much festiveness happening this week in expense of my sleep. But 'tis the season.
Speaking of the season, it is also the time of year when I agonize over how much to tip our doormen, super, and porters (who I'm guessing are handymen with a naming convention complex). CinS is a super-generous person who tips 25% and is best buddies with our building staff, which causes trouble each December. I think being CinS friend is tip enough. CinS disagrees.
On my way to work this morning, I passed the mailman exiting our apartment building, which reminded me that every year the mailman slips a postcard in my mailbox fishing for holiday tips. Sorry, buddy. You are the mailman. I have never seen you in my life, and I know you don't do me any special favors that would warrant a tip. In fact, I blame you sir for the delayed delivery of my In Touch magazine each week. If there was any way to anti-tip you, by say, stealing a $20 out of your wallet, I would do so.
All this ranting about holiday tip policies has got me running late to the party. But you will be pleased to know that I gave the manicurist a little something extra today. I took it from the mailman's stash.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment