THE SURPRISE PARTY

I closed my eyes and wished I were anyplace else but at the Dumm & Associates Company’s Sales and Marketing Division’s Annual party. Some geniuses in marketing decided it would be a great idea to shorten the name. So, they stretched a massive banner across the stage with the abbreviated name: Dumm/Ass. Who approved that?

Opening my eyes, I sat back and sighed. The four couples at my table were entertaining themselves with cocktails and mind-numbing chattering. I’m a recovering alcoholic. Three years sober, and the smell of liquor makes me queasy. Sipping ginger ale, I scanned the faces in the ballroom. How many other people didn’t want to be here, I wondered. If I were bold enough, I’d leave. I’m sure I wouldn’t be missed. Perhaps I’d spark a mass exodus. The thought makes me chuckle. But Mr. John Tindale, the company’s owner, demanded that we attend and have a good time.  

         The DJ played a nice dance mix, but no one had drunk enough to venture onto the dance floor. As I sat rocking to the beat, I saw Byron, the weasel from the Marketing Department, easing his way towards me. Just when I thought the night couldn’t get worse.  

         Through slurred speech, he asked, “Hey, Bren, how ya doin’?”

         “It’s Brenda, and I’m doing fine. And you, Byron?”

         “The By is doing just fine. Got a pay raise last week. You know how much?”

         I roll my eyes. ”I don’t think it’s in good taste to discuss salaries, Byron.”

         He looks at me as if he’s trying to figure out if I’m serious.

         “Anyways, it was a nice amount. How are things goin’ in Sales? Must be tough being around all those guys, huh?”

         “I have five older brothers. I did everything with them. I was a tomboy up until I was 12. I think I can handle myself.”

         Bryon gave me a sheepish grin. “How many women in the Sales Department now?”

         “Five. But should know that. You dated three out of the five.”

         I restrain myself from slapping the smirk off his face.

“Yeah, some people will do anything to get ahead.”

“Yes, and with anybody.”

Byron made a sour face before taking a drink from his glass of beer. The look in his blurry eyes told me my words had the desired effect.

“I’ll see ya later. Save a dance for me.”

“Sure.’

We both lied.

A few people gathered on the dance floor. As I craned my neck to see the dancers, a tap on the shoulder got my attention.

“Hey, Brenda.”

“Susie. It’s good to see you.” We hugged. “I haven’t seen any of the other ladies from sales. Where are you sitting?”

“In the corner over there. Table number 17.”

“Way in the back in the corner. Like an afterthought. So, indicative of how this company treats women.”

“But it’s a nice table, Brenda. And we have it all to ourselves.”

“That’s beside the point, Suze. They purposely put you in back by the kitchen.”

“It really isn’t that bad, Brenda. I mean, we have the table all to ourselves.”

“Yes, you said that. There’re a few empty tables around. I’m going to speak Doug Mellon and get your table changed and then join you.”

As I walked around the room searching for Mellon, Thomas Boyd approached me.

He gave me a toothy grin. “Hey, Brenda, want to buy a raffle ticket? It’s for a good cause.”

“How much?”

“They’re five dollars each. A book of five is thirty bucks.”

I gave him three tens.

“Thanks. You got to sign here. I’ll fill out the rest.”

Without reading the paper, I signed.

“There he is.”

“Who?” Tom asked.

“Doug. I--.”

“Doug? He’s right over there. See him?”

“Yes. Thanks, Tom. I see him.”

 Making a goofy face, he says, “Okay. Listen for your name.”

I hated talking to Doug because he was just the right height to look down my blouse. And he never missed an opportunity to peep.

“Doug. Doug.”

He turned and gave me his smarmy salesman’s smile.

“Doug, you’re in charge of the seating, right?”

He looks me up and down.

“Yeah, doll, I’m in charge. Why?”

“I would like to have the table assigned to the ladies from Sales changed.”

He snickers as he glanced at the men he was talking to.

“And why would you want that, little lady?”

“Their table is next to the kitchen. The waiters are constantly bumping into their table. Now, I see there are a few empty tables around. Can you change them? Or do you mind if they do it themselves?”

“Well, Sugar, since I’m in charge, I think--.”

I took a deep breath. “Mr. Mellon. What century do you think we live in? Let me inform you that we live in a century where calling a co-worker ‘doll,’ ‘little lady’ or ‘sugar’ can be viewed as sexual harassment.”

The other men groaned.

“Please refer to me as either Ms.McCloud or Sale Person McCloud.”

Mellon’s face drained of color.

“I’m surprised you did add a racial discrimination charge, Ms. Mccloud.”

“No, I don’t think you behaved this way because of my race. I think your rude to any woman of any color.”

A few men tittered. Mellon glared at them. Before he could respond, I asked again about the table exchange.

“Look, Ms. McCloud,” he emphasized Ms. McCloud, “do what you want.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mellon.”

As I walked a few feet, I heard him say.

“That one needs an attitude adjustment.”

When I returned to the lady’s table, they were on the dance floor. I sat and waited.

Betty returned first. “Hey, Brenda, did you see me dancing out there?”

I nodded.

         Crystal, Margaret, and Stacey came over a minute later.

“Ladies, we’re changing tables.”

         They all giggled as they gathered their belonging. We moved to a table not far from the dance floor. As we got settled, the Dj stopped the music for an announcement. Mr. Tinsdale marched onto the stage and grabbed the microphone.

         “Good evening, Ladies and Gentlemen. Thank you for attending the annual Sales and Marketing Gala. I hope you’re all having a wonderful time!”

         Applause and cheers reverberated through the hall.

         “Thank you! Thank, You! I think the Sales and Marketing Departments have really outdone themselves. What do you think!”

         The cheers went up a few decimals. Many people stood, clapped, and whistled.

         “Okay! I certainly agree. I like to give a special thanks to Mr.Thomas Boyd from Marketing and Mr.Doug Mellon from Sales for doing a terrific job organizing this extravaganza.”

         The people began to chant Tom and Doug.

 Mr. Tinsdale continued. “Well, everyone, continue to enjoy yourselves. I’ll turn the microphone over to Doug Mellon so he can start the SportsTtrivia Contest!”

         Mellon walks onto the stage with a bounce in his step.

         “Ladies and gentle, are you ready to let the games begin?” Sounding more like a carnival barker than the Vice President of Sales.

         Hoots and shoots were the crowd's response.

         “Now, here’s the game’s rules. I will ask the contestants to answer ten sports trivia questions. They’ll have twenty seconds to write down their answers on their pads- it’s like a sports jeopardy. The winner will be awarded not only this handsome, three-foot-high trophy you see here. But will also, gentlemen,  get to spend a day at the Lakeview Country club for you and three of your best friends. Think of it, gentlemen. Eighteen holes of golf on their beautifully manicured greens. As well as the chef’s special lunch.”

         Cheers and yelling echoed..

         “Well, if they’re not your best friends now, they will be after you invite them, huh, fellas!”

         All the men laughed.

         Mellon raised his hands to quiet the crowd. “Okay, everybody, when your name is called, come on up!”

         From that point on, the ladies in the room tuned out. The Trivia game was tacitly for the men. Mellon called out the names, and the grinning men ran onto the stage. When the crowd heard the tenth name on the list, the group couldn’t believe it.

         Betty asked, “Brenda, did you sign up for this Sports Trivia nonsense?”

         “What? No.”

         “They just called your name.”

         I looked at the stage.       

         Mellon asked. “Are you coming, Ms. McCloud?”

         “I didn’t sign up to play this game.”

         “Well, your signature is on the list.”

         “The only paper I signed was for the raffle drawing.”

         “What raffle drawing? There’s no raffle drawing tonight.”

         I stood. “Now, wait a minute. I paid Tom Boyle thirty dollars for five raffle tickets!” I looked around for Boyle.

         “Ms. McCloud, I don’t know anything about that, but are you playing?”

         “You can bow out if you like. We’ll understand.”

         The men laugh.

         The ladies at my table encouraged me. I looked in the eyes of the women around me. I saw hope.

         “Okay, Mr.Mellon. I’ll play.”

         All the women cheered. Whether or not they thought I had a chance of winning, I don’t know.

         I took my place at the end of the line of ten men. The men struggled to keep the smirks and smiles off their faces. Mellon began.

         “Alright, contestants, I’m going to ask ten trivia questions. You’ll have twenty seconds to write your answers on your pads. When I say pens down, please put them down, or you’ll be disqualified.  Once you’re disqualified, you must leave the stage.  Ready? Let’s begin.”

         The first question was easy. How big is a baseball?

          “9 to 91/4 inches.”

         Contestants number 7 and 1 dropped out.      

         “What sport is dubbed the ‘king of sports’?

         Soccer. Contestants 2, and 9 dropped out.

         “In baseball, what team gets to bat first?”

         “The visiting team.”

         The 4^th and  5^th contestant was disqualified.

         “How many dimples does an average golf ball have?”

         The ‘336’ answer eliminated contestants 6.

         “What is Canada’s national sport?

         Amidst cries of unfairness, the answer, Lacrosse, eliminated contestant 8.

         “What number is next 20 on a British dartboard?

         The answer, 1, eliminated everyone, but me and contestant 3, Byron.

         A mixture of excitement and anticipation filled the arena. I looked over at Byron., and his face glistened with sweat. The moment wasn’t lost on me: Brenda McCloud, the first woman to win the coveted Sports Trivia Game. Mellon stared at Byron.

         Mellon took his time asking the final question. “What country has the participated in more Summer Olympics without winning a medal?

         I could see from Byron’s expression he had no answer.

         The Philipines was the answer.  I won.

         The women cheered. I don’t know what gave me more pleasure. Being awarded my prizes. Or having Mr. Doug Mellon present them to me. The trophy sat in the middle of our table. Large numbers of people filed by to admire it and to congratulate me. But the only person I wanted to see was Tom Boyle. I wanted my thirty dollars back.