Oh god, what an unreasonable day for a gentleman yesterday.

We had an all day off-site meeting to plan 2006 projects and stuff. It was intensely boring, but fun was to be had.

The restaurant who's conference room we stayed in forbid that we bring food with us, so I went to Target and bought a ton of personal size Dorito and Cheeto bags, along with tons of fun-size chocolates and walked right into our room with them, unnoticed as of yet.

Later, when the waitress came upstairs and asked if we wanted dessert after we had lunch, my boss asked her to get a menu. When she left, I unloaded all the snacks on the tables and distributed them. When she came back, she just looked around and went 'Oh ...", put the menu down and walked away. I chuckled easily with satisfaction.

That was just the beginning of unreasonableness.

At dinner, when the meeting was all over, we were relaxing and unwinding and ordering some drinks. It was then that I noticed this establishment sells yards of beer - the glasses are a yard tall. I joke about how it would be funny if we got them, so my boss' boss says, "LET'S"!

So most of us get a yard of beer. Not thinking, I drink it pretty fast and then order a half-yard. We got pictures of these things, I'll have to send them later.

Anyway, I clearly drank more than all my coworkers and it showed. That's breaking the golden rule of corporate social events - never outdrink the boss. Anyway, it was all good - until I made a comment to one of my female coworkers.

There is this highly irritating older woman that I have to work with around the office. She often gets on my nerves about petty stuff all the time. Needless to say, I don't really enjoy her company much. Well, she recently became a grandmother and the subject has been very tabboo around the office. No one wants to bring it up because she's apparently very sensitive about it.

So, another coworker starts talking about he's going to have a baby with his wife in a few months, and everyone's like "Oh, that's great! congrats! etc!" and they are all offering tips and hints on child rearing, to which I wisely contribute "Well, I'm sure Constance (not real name) could give you a few! I mean, she IS a GRANDmother now! and how many times over is that? 3? you should write a book!"

Of course, this sounded like it was in a playful jesting attitude - but it was highly underhanded and subtle sarcasm. She knew that. She was clearly upset - it made for a deliciously awkward situation.

So then dinner ends and some of my coworkers decide we should go to the bar, get more drinks, and play pool. Mind you they are all about 10-20 years older than me, but I figure this could be fun, a good way to get to know them better.

So we go to this place called Rapture which is known to be a very popular hangout for college students later at night. We go upstairs and begin playing pool. We look totally out of place in our work clothes, it's great.

What's better is that we are all pretty drunk, and being loud AND obnoxious. The only thing missing was cigars ... but WAIT! What's THIS?! One of my coworkers pulls out a tin of fine cigars and offers them up to everyone!

Before you know it, these well dressed, successfull men are yelling and laughing whilst surrounded in a cloud of rich cigar smoke!

OOHOHOHOOHO

I wanted to OOHOHOH so hard, but they wouldn't have gotten it.

Eventually, they begin to leave one by one and I begin to leave with the last of them. I part my way toward my car by myself and look at my phone. It's only 10:00, wow! It felt later, but the night was young and I was relatively wasted. I decided to call a friend up and go back to Rapture. Besides, I had noticed some girls there that I was making some hard eye contact with and figured I would try to strike up some conversation.

So I saunter back in, still superfuously out of place, get myself a corona, and swagger around. I take a seat at a booth in the corner and chill, scope the scene out, monitor the inhabitants. I do this for a while, looking aloof and mysterious, until I spot my prey.

I walk up to the bar where they are sitting and take a spot near them. I exchange glances with the two girls every now and then for a bit, just enough to confirm my suspicions. Then this group of boring guys walks by and starts talking to them. I see them talking and looking at me and then talking again. I'm getting pretty irate at the whole idea for some reason.

One of the guys comes over and shakes my hand and asks what color my shirt is. I'm wearing a blue sweater with my pink collar shirt underneath, which comes out of the collar and sleaves. I could only imagine he was referring to my pink shirt, so I say "It's pink, do you have a problem with that?!" and he's like, "Oh no, not at all, these girls over here were debating whether it was pink or white, because of the red lights above us".

So I look over to the girls and say "So, who won the bet?", to which the cuter of the two girls points to the uglier of the two and says "she did!" and I say "Well, congratulations!" I then stare hard for a little bit, then quickly whip back around to my position and drink harder.

The friend I had called, Sara, shows up now. So she sits, we talk, time passes. Then the cuter of the two girls walks past me, grabbing my shoulders, and starts to whisper in my ear. I think to myself "oh man, she's about to either whisper something utterly naughty or completely bitchy in my ear", I brace myself either way.

She says "My friend thinks you're really cute."

I hate when girls do that. Why is it always that the cuter girl has to be the ambassador for the ugly girls? The cute girl approaches the guy, who starts to get his hopes up, and then she drops an ugly bomb in his ear.

So I look up at her and I say, "Hey thanks! But she's not cute, however YOU are" *huge smile*.

She grimaces hard like a Central Park hobo and walks away. I don't even look at her ugly friend.

It was then that my friend Sara says we should go to a different place down the street where her friend works.

So we go there and it's packed wall to wall with college students: underage tramps and overdressed poseurs. The sad thing was, I more or less fit in with what I was wearing considering the way UVA students dress. But I was so drunk and belligerent that I was just making fun of everyone I saw, and they deserved it.

Everytime so girl walked by I was like "Hey nice skirt, what are you, 16?", "You call that dancing? Do you even know who this is on the radio?", "Nice boobs! Are they still growing?"

I was being so sarcastic. I had a cloud of venom around my entire person and whoever came within the proximity was coated.

My friend Sara thought it was so hilarious that she decided we were going to do a lap around the bar so I could point out people to her and explain why there were either 1) boring, 2) generic or 3) dissapointing in general

At one point, I noticed that 8 out of 10 guys saw were wearing North Face fleeces (mind you, it was 60 degrees that day) with sandals, some kind of ultra faded/ripped jean, and a LaCoste polo with some beaten up looking UVA hat or grungy visor. It was just a paradox of reasonable style.

So I proclaimed loudly, in no general direction and at no particular person, "Hey! Nice North Face fleece! We're in fricking Virginia people, the only thing you're North of are Peaches and Oranges!!!"

It was at this point that my friend Sara decided that we should probably get going, and we did.

Definitely one of my more eventful nights recently. I do thoroughly enjoy a good beard-tossing now and gain.