Whose Party Is It Anyway?

Whose Party Is It Anyway?

                         “Many are called, but few are chosen.”

                                                                -Matthew 22:14

The office Christmas Party. A time to abandon any semblance of workplace propriety, to drink to excess, to vent about the bosses, and to flirt with one’s co-workers safe in the knowledge that unsuccessful attempts could always be blamed on the booze. Wary spouses may insist on attending, but most can roam the hunting grounds uninhibited.

Moderation takes a hit as the drinks are on the house at the Company’s annual Christmas Party, and stories of the night’s drunken debauchery will be told around the water cooler until the Company’s summer picnic when new tales are born. It’s an interesting mix of people as the Company’s founder, Filbert Barnes, believed one monumental, Company-wide event was better for Company morale than multiple divisional gatherings. Lawyers, accountants, secretaries, sales personnel, shipping dock workers, and custodians were all invited. Many would never cross paths during the workday, so the late arrival stranger would not have been noticed… except for his garb.

“Who the hell is that, Frank?”

“Who are you talking about, Herb?”

“The weirdo at the door, the guy with the shaggy hair and the beard. He must not have gotten the memo. He looks like he’s dressed for a toga party.”

“Holy crap, Herb, the guy’s wearing sandals… in December… and it’s snowing.”

As unusual as the appearance of the stranger was, the distraction was only momentary as Herb and Frank were both vying for the attention of the young brunette in the Shipping Department.

“I saw her first, Herb.”

“I work with her. That’s Sharon. She’s just two cubicles over from me.”

“So? I saw her first tonight.”

“What? Besides, you’re married.”

“So are you.”

“Oh, good going, Frank. Now she’s talking to that muscle-head from the loading dock, the guy they call Fabio. We don’t have a chance.”

 The mysterious stranger looked troubled and walked directly to Herb and Frank.

“Excuse me, gentlemen. Could I have a word with you?”

The shock of his appearance was overtaken by the gentle but firm tone of his voice. Neither Frank nor Herb could speak.

“Have you not heard the words, ‘What God has joined together, let no man put asunder’? It’s right in the good book.”

Herb and Frank looked at each other and quickly left.

“Asunder? What the hell is that, Herb?”

“Beats me, Frank. That guy’s a nut-job. He must be in accounting.”

The stranger made one last effort as they walked away.

“And don’t forget the Sixth Commandment! That’s a big one!”

 The drinks flowed freely. An ‘open bar’ is a gateway to people losing their good sense of judgment and self-control. Inevitably, conversations sprang up across the room about anyone of higher rank.

“My supervisor is an idiot, Jane.”

“What a coincidence, Doris. So is mine!”

“And he’s got a big corner office. I’m the one who does all the work, and he just sits there in his big cushy, leather chair all day.”

“Same with my boss. The fat-ass has a corner office too.. and a reserved parking spot. I should have that parking space.”

“Oh, my God, Jane, check out the guy coming over here.”

“He looks like he’s in his bathrobe… and he’s wearing sandals!”

“I’ll bet he’s one of those homeless people from down by the river. I hope he’s not dangerous.”

The stranger approached.

“Excuse me, ladies, could I have a word with you?”

Maybe it was his eyes, a piercing look that sent the message he had something important to say. Neither woman could speak.

“Are you familiar with the Ten Commandments?”

“The movie? I love Charleton Heston.”

The stranger looked frustrated.

“No, not the movie… the ten laws of God given to Moses.”

“I think that was in the movie.”

The stranger’s frustration grew.

“Yes, I know it was in the movie, but I’m talking about God’s laws, number ten in particular.”

“Ten? Is that the one about not killing people?”

“No, Doris, you silly goof. That’s Five… or is it Six?”

“It’s Five, if you’re Catholic. The numbers bounce around a little bit, but the order doesn’t matter. The Commandments are God’s law, and they must be followed. But I’m talking about the Tenth Commandment- Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods.”

“You talk funny, Mister… thou, shalt, covet. Do you work in Accounting? And don’t you get cold in those sandals?”

“No, I don’t feel the cold. But you should not covet the trappings of your supervisor’s position.”

“Covet? I think that was in Silence of the Lambs. Wasn’t it, Doris?”

“Yes, Hannibal Lector told Clarice that the bad guy coveted something. That was a big clue in the movie. Is that what you’re talking about, Mister?”

The stranger put his hand to his forehead and spoke in a whisper.

“Never mind.”

The party kicked into second gear. Filbert was a believer in live music and though the song selection may have been a little outdated, the revelers took to the dance floor in search of close encounters of any kind. Men of all ages cavorted to the “fast dance” music, their minds filled with the image of John Travolta while their bodies moved in the mode of Elmer Fudd.

The real attraction was, of course, the slow dance which presented the opportunity for warm bodies to rub up against each other. Fantasies that had been percolating in the office could take a step closer to fulfillment, even if only in the minds of the hopeful.

The mysterious stranger watched from a darkened corner. He grimaced as one man slowly moved his hand closer and closer to his partners’s butt, and another couple seemed to be closing in on fully clothed simulated sex. One inebriated man stumbled across the dance floor mumbling obscenities at no one in particular, and a young woman sat on the floor cradling a bottle of wine. Frank found one of those gag hats with mistletoe on top and was trying to kiss every person within striking distance. He passed on old man Barnes.

Many in the crowded room noticed the stranger walk toward the young woman on the floor holding the bottle of wine.

“Who is that guy? And what the hell is he wearing?”

“I’ve never seen him before. Probably a party crasher.”

“Maybe we should call Security.”

“Do we have Security?”

“I dunno.”

The mysterious stranger bent down and spoke to the woman.

“Has it not been written, ‘And do not get drunk with wine, for that is dissipation, but be filled with the spirit.’ That’s from Ephesians,”

“Effa who?”

“Ephesians. It’s in the good book.”

“What good book?”

“The Bible, the word of God.”

“God? There is no God.”

“We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“You’re a believer?”

“You could say that.”

“Why are you talking to me? What do you want?”

“I want to save you.”

“What?”

“Rise, and you shall be forgiven.”

“Rise? Are you fricking kidding me? I couldn’t get up if this place was on fire.”

The stranger sensed the problem.

“Well, ok then. Stay where you are and you’re forgiven anyway.”

The woman felt a sense of calm come over her as the stranger turned and began to walk away.

“Hey, Mister!”

“Yes?”

“Uh… thank you. I’ve done so many bad things that I’m not sure what I’ve been forgiven for, but I feel better about it.”

“You are forgiven for all.”

The woman smiled as the stranger disappeared into the crowd. She was beginning to understand.

The stranger came across an older gentleman trying to educate a new hire.

“You’ve got to take your sick days.”

“But what if I’m not sick?”

‘Oh, my God, what is wrong with you? The sick days are there. Take take them! We call them mental health days if you’re not really sick. We deserve a little extra time off.”

“I guess.”

“And listen, you’re in sales so you’ll be doing a little traveling. That’s where you can really cash in.”

“How so?”

“You pad your expense account. They’re pretty lax on checking receipts, so put a little extra down. It’s like getting a bonus at the end of every month.”

The conversation caught the attention of the mysterious stranger.

“Excuse me, gentlemen, could I have a word with you?”

The older gentleman was more interested in the stranger’s appearance than his words.

“What are you wearing? If you’re looking for the set for Animal House, you’re in the wrong place! Get it? Belushi? The toga party? Ha, ha, ha…”

“Very funny. But not so funny is stealing from your Company.”

“Stealing? Who’s stealing?”

“You are, and you’re tempting this young man to do the same.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Fake sick days, padding expense accounts… cheating. Getting money that rightfully doesn’t belong to you… stealing, a direct violation of the Seventh Commandment.”

“Who do you think you are, Mr. Goodie-two-shoes?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, it’s none of your business.”

“Everything is my business.”

“Come on Jack, let’s get away from this character. I’ll talk to you on Monday.”

The stranger had the final word.

“On Monday, Jack, you need to listen, not to him, but to me.”

“But you won’t be there on Monday.”

“I’ll be there, you will hear me, and you will listen.”

Jack pondered the words, and a slight tremor shook the older man as they walked away.

The party was now in overdrive. The booze flowed, the music blared, the dancers clung to each other… even after the music stopped, Frank kissed his brains out, and the partygoers complained and schemed.

“God dammit, George! You just spilled your drink all over my new shirt!”

The outburst drew the immediate attention and ire of the stranger.

“Excuse me! Watch your mouth, young man! You just took the name of the Lord thy God in vain!”

“Uh… so?”

“So?! You can’t be doing that. It’s one of God’s Commandments. It’s right up there at number two for a reason. It may not seem like a big deal to you, but it is.”

“You’re right. It’s not a big deal to me. Go mind your own business, bathrobe-boy.”

There was a rare mix of sadness and anger in the stranger’s eyes. He looked around the room and saw everything the way it wasn’t supposed to be. The immortal words of Popeye the Sailor Man came to mind- “That’s all I can stands, I can’t stands no more.”

The stranger went right to the tables laden with bottles of wine and liquor at the front of the room. He flipped the tables over one by one, and the sound of crashing glass filled the room.

“What is wrong with you people?! Have you not heard of Sodom and Gomorrah? Or how about the Flood? Have you not learned anything?”

The stranger started picking up unbroken bottles and smashing them to the ground.

“Jesus Christ, Herb! The guy is crazy! Somebody stop him!”

The stranger’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Someone did it again!”

The bottle barrage continued with renewed vigor.

“Fabio! Somebody get Fabio!”

Fabio raced to the stranger and grabbed him by the arm.

“Let’s go buddy… right now!”

A chorus of taunts erupted from the crowd.

“Throw the bum out!”

“Put some socks on!”

“You wasted all that good booze, jerk!”

“You weren’t invited here!”

It was the last barb that stopped the stranger in his tracks. For unknown reasons, Fabio halted his mission and released his grip on the stranger.

“I wasn’t invited? A Christmas Party and I’m not welcome here? Can anyone here tell me why they call it a Christmas Party?”

“It’s because we have it every year right around Christmas… duh.”

Now it was a feeling of hopelessness that overtook the mysterious stranger. He looked around the room one last time, lowered his head, and slowly walked away.