in the ongoing saga of work being especially soul-sucking these days, my immediate team and i decided to re-invent a long-standing work tradition. it is customary that at the end of a long month, teams celebrate by going out to dinner together. it may only be november 16th, but we decided that this month has gone on far long enough, and decided to pre-empt the end-of-month civilized dinner with a mid-month beer binge. lovely.
the highlight of the evening?
one of the guys was expounding on the virtues of grey goose, and how he doesn't think jameson is good enough (and my faithful readers already know what an affront this is to me) compared with single-malt something-or-other, and his eighteen languages that he speaks, and his mastery of technology, etc... suddenly one of the women, just as educated as this guy - but two beers apparently goes a longer way for her - starts shouting...
"you have to learn to live with the PEOPLE! join the proletariat! i am the proletariat! look, i use little words! you're all, 'look at me, i'm slumming it! i ate duck pate instead of goose! tee hee!'"
now, as i argued, the true proletariat doesn't know the word proletariat, but regardless, i think plans were made to drink schlitz together, which works out well for me.
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