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Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

Ol’ Robbo’s office “holiday” party was held today.  Ol’ Robbo  cut it completely dead.

Honestly, I can think of very few things more boring, yet at the same time more dangerous, than one of these office shindigs.  Boring because, in my misanthropic opinion, all parties are boring.  (Karaoke? Seriously? How old are you?) Dangerous because, well…., let’s just say that Ol’ Robbo’s general world-view is not exactly aligned with the majority sentiment in his place of employment.  And one would not want the odd casual observation to cry Hater! and let slip the dogs of politickal correctness against oneself, now, would one?

So I quietly stuck to my desk.  Call it a Bartleby-style revolt against the Modern Age and all it stands for.

Of course, this was hardly spontaneous.  Not that anyone asked yet, but I was completely teed up with both the “I had some kind of stomach thing the other day and I don’t want to infect anyone” and the “Gosh, I’d love to come, but I’ve got to read through this depo transcript” excuses.  (Both true, as a matter of fact.)  Then there’s the “quiet, keeps to himself” persona I’ve been nurturing for many years.  They want to roll their eyes and shake their heads?  Let ’em!

At any event,  I think I’m covered.

Bah, humbug indeed.

 

 

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