How To Never Grow Up

I’m going to tell a quick story about a company I used to work for.  To protect myself from libel lawsuits, I’m going to change the names of the company, location, employees, line of work, as well as any other details that could lead to someone.  Everything else, though, is true, except that I sort of combined two or three experiences into one.  But other than that, it’s all true.

I used to think that when you left college, the party ended.  No more getting drunk and yelling at your friends and colleagues!  Time to be a man.  That was, until, I became employed as a factory worker for the Rainer Werner Fassbinder Textile Manufacturing Plant (a.k.a. “Rawftemp) shortly after I graduated from Absalom University.  Now, Rawftemp was a young company; the CEO, Coralino Macawber, was barely forty, an ex-frat boy who graduated from Surf University in the Grand Canyon in 1978.  During the day, he was all business.  I don’t know what he was during the night, because I’m not his wife or secret lover.  But I presumed him to be a more or less straight-laced guy.  How wrong I was.

Six months into working for Rawftemp, I received an e-mail from the office manager, Beyblade Digimonderburg.  Apparently, every year, the company holds a retreat out in Boise, Idaho.  And supposedly, it turns out to be a pretty wild party.  I think to myself, “But surely it couldn’t be nearly as wild as the parties from Absalom University, where I would drink 16 shots, pass out in the bathroom, wake up three hours later, walk into my bedroom, pass out on the floor, and wake up spooning my backpack?”  How wrong I was.

The retreat lasted three days.  The first two and a half days were meetings and bizarre motivational speeches.  At one point, Macawber starts talking about “The Four,” a series of four steps that will lead to the perfect product.  Each step, however, had about four or five sub-steps in it. After two days of talking about it, nobody could remember anything about it, except that it was complicated, incomprehensible, and stupid.  Fortunately, Macawber wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, and didn’t seem to notice.  I figured that everyone was exaggerating about the party.  How wrong I was.

The final night, the entire company (50+ people) was treated to an open bar.  Before I knew it, I was downing shots left and right.  “A toast to this!” and “a toast to that!” and a variety of other toasts and suddenly, I’ve had eight shots in one hour.  Then, one of the senior employees, a man by the name of Rahm Arizona, comes up to me and begins telling me some strange things. He says something about how living in Idaho makes my dick get harder, and makes me want to suck his dick, or something to that effect.  I figured it to be an isolated incident.  How wrong I was.

Things get weirder.  Sergeant Bilbo Baggins, another factory worker, French kisses the CFO.  Vanderbilt Magoogah, a skeezy hipster type, goes off to have sex with one of the interns.  Wheaties Bag, head of PR, dons a sweatshirt and begins jogging around the outside of the bar.  And then there’s Macawber, drunk as shit, waddling up to me.  He says, “I know you want to fuck the interns from our Wasilla, Alaska office!  Tell me you don’t want to fuck those interns!”  I politely said “Sure,” and ran away as fast as I could. I thought that was the end. How wrong I was.

Then some townies crashed the party.  “Fuck you guys!” they said.  “Rawftemp sucks!”  Let me tell you something: that pissed the hell out of Tarquin Tarquin Fatame, head of IT.  He pulled out a KNIFE and charged the townies.  It took three people to hold him back.  The townies, obviously, ran away.

I guess the point of the story is that there’s never an age where you have to stop getting completely wasted and endangering your life.  It’s common knowledge to many, but at the time, that experience opened up my eyes like none other.  I’ll never forget my experiences at Rawftemp.

– David


One Response to “How To Never Grow Up”

  1. David, that was amazing. More crazy drunken work stories, plz?

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