The Subject of Getting Drizzunk

My company puts on a lot of events. And with these events usually comes a open bar. And with that open bar comes a lot of overservedness (word I just made up so go with it please).

Most work blogs I read talk about not drinking at company events. Or having the one drink and then switching to soda (or pop as we like to say out here in the Ole Midwest). But I will not say that because it would be hypocritical.

I personally don't think there is anything wrong with drinking in front of your coworkers. At our company events, I will drink more than one glass of wine and sometimes I even get drunk. The key to drinking with your coworkers or in front of your boss is to know yourself.

We all know this chat -the chat that your parents had with you before you left for college (or was that just mine?). The chat about knowing your limits and knowing your body and knowing your drunk. I know that after 4 glasses of wine I'm usually at my limit and that that 5th glass of wine will make me go overboard so if I'm with my bosses or people I want to impress then I'm not going to have the 5th glass. Or even the 4th probably.

And honestly I've been at parties where I have had that 4th or 5th glass and then sent myself home. Case in point, the incentive trip in St. Thomas - we had a huge snafu in the form of a Carribbean storm take place on the island and had to cancel our sail over to St. John for cocktails and dinner and instead had a 3-hour cocktail hour at the bar and then my boss invited me and my guest (who just happened to be WG1) to dinner. The 2 of us could barely finish our meals we were so tipsy so after dinner we sent ourselves home instead of sticking around for a nightcap.

So if you have a company picnic coming up with an open bar (like I do in a few weeks) then just stick to my advice and know yourself. Don't overdo it and if you think you're getting to the point of no return, send yourself home.

It's all about knowing your drunk - thanks for the advice Mom & Dad!

Mixing Coworkers and Chasers

by Editing Working Girl

Another Cinco de Mayo has come and gone as have the celebrations that come with it. Add on other 'American drinking holidays' like St. Patrick's Day and really anything having to do with sporting events and there is the potential to be a Working Girl Mess.

I attend a lot of networking events as a freelancer, and as I am representing myself, I usually only drink one glass of wine (and instead double up on the business cards). Then there are times when I am representing my company at blog conferences or events like SXSW with the parties and cocktail hours and concerts and the lines between coworkers and friends are blurred, along with the amount I may have had to drink.

As a runner, I don't usually get into awkward alcohol situations, because I am usually training for a race and avoiding it altogether. Even so, there are times where I do drink in front of coworkers. Next week, for example, we have a team outing scheduled involving a tour of the city, on a "bus" of sorts that is powered by us - by pedaling - while drinking beer and wine.

Here comes my question for fellow Working Girls: what is the appropriate amount to drink on this afternoon excursion? What about at Happy Hours or other company networking events?

I usually avoid this situation by simply keeping my relationship with coworkers professional. Personally, I don't want my coworkers to know how much I drank the other night or how I look when I dance downtown or even what my drink of choice is. Have any of you had an embarrassing Working Girl story that involved alcohol?

Take Me Out Tonight?

These days, there are some weekends that I don't even go out one night. In college, I'd go out four nights a week. Now, sometimes it's rare that I go out once. It's not that I don't like people anymore or that I don't like spending time with my friends. It's that going out almost always involves drinking and my body has officially raised a white flag when it comes to recovering from a night of drinking.

Tonight, I found myself torn. I went to the Mets game with some friends and enjoyed a hot dog and a few beers. I stopped myself there. My friends wanted to go out once we got back to Manhattan. Usually, I'm all about it. I like to go with the flow and have fun with my friends. But, although tomorrow is Friday and it's usually a slower and more quiet day in the office, I still have a lot to get done and I'd like to be at 100% for that. Thankfully, my body is still processing three beers for me. (I did go to the bar, nursed a beer and enjoyed the company of my friends.)

There have been several times in the past that I haven't controlled myself so well and a couple of drinks turned to many and that turned into a hangover. A little part of me, two years later, is still in college mode. That part is saying "have another drink, have fun; you'll be fine tomorrow." Sometimes I give in because it is fun. But when I wake up the next morning and have to go to work or get up on a weekend and be productive (whether it's running errands or visiting family), it's not so fun.

I've turned into more of a homebody because of this internal dilemma and while I love a quiet and relaxing night in, a few to many of those can cause me to feel lonely. I need to find a way to make my socializing work for me. I want to have fun, keep a nice social calendar and not have it hold me back in any aspect of my life.

I Think I'm Still Drunk

I have a bit of a reputation for getting inappropriately drunk with coworkers. It may be the awkwardness of small talk with the higher-ups or that I'm not paying for the booze but either way, I've gotten too drunk one too many times. More often than not, someone else is just a drunk so it's not just me. But Saturday night, it was a different story.

In typical WG1 fashion, I proceeded to drink a little too much in celebration of our biggest event of they year being complete. Our event rocked and I rocked, my female boss told me that she couldn't have done the event without me and that 30 people told her how great of a job I did, so I was in quiet the celebratory mood. I had two rum and diets at dinner with my bosses and coworkers in the marketing department.

Then, the night got interesting.

One of our higher-ups is married with two little munchkins and doesn't get out much. We'll call him Michael Scott because, well, he kind of is like Michael School. When there are group business trips, he takes advantage and goes all out. Limos to a club, bottle service and champagne at the club and craziness all around. After waking up at 5:30AM and working on my feet all day, I said to myself that I would only go out for another drink or two. Well a drink or two turned into several. I was dancing on chairs, pretending I was the bartender with our table's bottle of vodka and singing my little heart out.

The club closed at 2AM, which was already much later than when I usually end my nights in the city. The group that was left which was just Michael Scott and a slew of assistants, we all hopped into the limo and were on our way back to the hotel. Or so I thought.

I thought wrong. We were on our way to an after hours club. I decided to go into little miss event planner mode and sat in the front of the limo with our driver. We drove and drove and drove around the northern California city and couldn't find the club. Why? Because it was hidden. It was like a speakeasy. Being with a group of other assistants made this whole experience less inappropriate but we were still Michael Scott. Once we finally found this after hours place, which in my memory was just like a rave but let's keep in mind that I was entering a blackout, Michael Scott had to fork over all of his cash to get the four guys that were with us into the place. Little miss party planner (me) proceeded to withdraw $120 out of my personal checking account and handed it to him to buy drinks.

At one point, he was holding my shoes while I danced and dancing with myself and other female coworkers to keep sketchy men away from us. Again, I was near blackout so this could all be in my head. At the end of the night, the limo dropped myself on one of my coworkers off at the hotel and everyone else started walking to Denny's. When the limo driver asked me who's room the limo should be charged to, I yelled "charge it to Michael Scott!" It was now 4:30 in the morning.

The next thing I remember is the phone ringing in my hotel room at 8:00AM. I had to be down in the lobby at 9:00AM to get to the airport. Needless to say, Sunday was a long day that included sitting with my head between my legs, alcohol seeping out my pours, vomiting in the airport and all sorts of awkwardness in front of my male boss.

But wait, the story doesn't end there. First thing on Monday morning, Michael Scott calls me into his office. "I think I owe you $120," he said to me and I awkwardly laughed. He then said, "you made me well aware that this was a lot of money for you to be taking out of your account." Uh, awkward.

We then sat in his office for about 15 minutes and had a true college-style recap of the night. He told me that he thought I was going to get arrested. To which I replied with a blank stare and then a "what? When?"

"When you were talking to the cop about where the limo was parked," he said jogging my memory a bit. I remembered talking to a cop and informing him that we were from an important magazine because in the state I was in, that was important. I remember arriving back at the hotel and seeing other coworkers getting in their cars to go to the airport. Bits and pieces of the night began to finally come together but every one of my actions is not accounted for and god only knows what else I said to Michael Scott or anyone else for that matter.

I'll Give Myself an A- For Effort

About a month ago, I admitted that I'm not much of a weekday party animal (unlike my new roommate Natalie).

After I posted I got really motivated to make plans and be more proactive about living life on the weekdays and not letting my weekdays bring me down and subsequentially leave me a couch potato in front of shows like 90210 and Top Design (I don't even like them!).

WG1 had also expressed interest in doing more (because at this point in time she was still living with her dad and had no life - sorry WG1 but you know it's true). Anyway, WG1 suggested we attend a DailyCandy soiree after work one night. The party seemed promising. It was a summer "white party" with summery cocktails, light appetizers, and the first 50 guests were promised a new snazzy electric toothbrush (thrilling I know).

So WG1 and I decided since the party didn't start until 7 that we'd grab drinks beforehand at a bar down the street. But when we turned the corner we realized that the line was already at least 100 people deep. So we got in line. And waited. And waited. And waited some more. I think we waited an hour and half and when we finally entered the coveted DailyCandy party, we made a beeline for the bar.

"We'll have two of these special cocktails," I said pointing at the bar menu.

"Oh, we're all out."

"Out of alcohol?" WG1 asked in pure shock.

"Yep, sorry girls." The bartender then scuttled away from our angry eyes. I'm really good at angry eyes btw.

We both took one look at one another and without words exited the bar. So our big night out ended up being a bust. On a lighter note, we ended up finding a really cute little restaurant nearby where we enjoyed some really great artichoke dip and of course wine to wash it down with. We also made some new friends in line while waiting so we officially felt social and had a great meal to boot.

Moral of the story. I don't really have one. I think I just wanted to prove that I'm not always lame and do manage to get out after work.

And that do be a good Working Girl, you have to let off some steam every once in a while. And I'm trying my darndest to get out there more. For example, WG1 and I had drinks with our friend Hannah a few weeks ago, we had a amazing meal at Buddakan last week (where we saw Dale from Top Chef!), and next week my gay bff from work promised to take me on a date to bar Porkies where 12-Pack from I Love NY bartends once a week (I kid you not).

So I think I'm doing pretty well. I'm no party animal. But I'm no couch potato either.

An American Girl in Londontown

I just got back from the wedding in England where I drunkenly embarrassed myself so drastically that I might just ban myself from the United Kingdom altogether. As a side note, congratulations to K & A. The wedding was beautiful! And Vix, here's your big shout-out! Thanks for the lovely big sleep-over and I miss you terribly already. 

It's my day to post. 

Unfortunately, I have major jet lag (and I totally can't call out of work tomorrow). I just got off the plane ride from hell (think puke, broken TV monitors, and dead iPods). 

And to top it all off, WG1 has raided my Ben & Jerry's ice cream stash. And when I say raided I mean she picked out all the good bits and left behind vanilla ice cream. And when I yelled at her (and oh man did I yell) she said she did it because she missed me. Which is really nice, but don't tell her I told you that. 

So, in short, I think I might take the night off and go to bed early. 

I Kissed A Coworker and I Liked It

Ok, I didn't hook up with a coworker. In fact, when I told WG2 that I was going to write about hooking up with coworkers she sarcastically said to me "Why? Because you have so much experience?"

She's right, I have little experience hooking up with coworkers. Unless you count when I was the commentary editor of my college newspaper and I started hooking up with the editor in chief. Yes, my working boy and I have quite the dorky story. But that doesn't mean we didn't get hot and heavy once or twice. Ok, just once and we got interrupted. Awkward.

WG2 actually has her own story about hooking up with a coworker but I'll let her tell that one herself. I'm going to tell you a story about my friend, we'll call her LP after her favorite designer Lilly Pulitzer, who innocently went to happy hour and hooked up with a coworker. LP works in the financial district, what she does exactly, I have no idea. But she works with many a hot working boy.

Now, LP loves her white wine almost as much as she loves a preppy boy in a collared shirt and pink gingham oxford shorts. This happy hour she got plenty of both. And plenty of Grey Goose. We'll call LP's hookup BW. BW told LP that he would take her home because she was drunk. LP could have taken a company paid car home but what's a drunk Working Girl to do? In this case, go with the working boy. I won't go into detail about what exactly happened when they hooked up because (a) she didn't tell me and (b) we're not that kind of blog.

The next day is what really matters, as it always does after a drunken hook up. The next day, LP was not in a good place. She was hungover. BW, knowing she would have a raging hangover, kindly brought her a water in the morning. Later in the day, her coworkers kindly informed her that he was married.

After the fateful night, LP and BW went to lunch a few times and LP noticed that this working boy doesn't wear his wedding band. Either he is a bad husband or he really isn't married. That is still to be determined. Either way, LP came to the conclusion that another hook up was not in the future. That was until the Training Class Graduation happy hour. There was more white wine, more Grey Goose shots and more of preppy BW. A party soon followed at a nearby apartment. Long story short, LP and BW proceeded to hook up in the master bedroom.

Every so often BW brings LP coffee. LP doesn't even like coffee, she drinks Sunkist Orange Soda for breakfast, but everytime he brings it she pretends that she does. And that's just the beginning of the awkwardness...

It's Cinco De Mayo and All I Want To Do Is Sleep

I woke up this morning craving a margarita. A nice frosty, cold beverage to sip while I did The Boss's expense report because today is Cinco de Mayo and therefore a great excuse to do some day drinking. 

That's when I remembered that I am not in college anymore. Margaritas and Coronas with lime might be the breakfast of champions for college students living up a Mexican holiday, but not for a full-time employee like myself. 

That's when I came up with an alternate plan. Three of my co-workers and I planned early on in the morning over our cups of coffee that we'd hit up a great little sangria place around the corner after work (maybe even sneak out early because all the managers were in a board meeting all day). Great! We sank back in our cubicles counting down the hours. 

Around lunchtime the plan veered off path a little. Maybe not sangria, we thought. Sangria has wine in it which equals hung-over the next morning. Instead we decided on a little Mexican place (that when calculated was one block closer and we were already getting tired). We'd get a few margaritas and head out. 

Around 3 p.m., one of my co-workers backed out. She had to work late. 

4 p.m. rolls around and another co-worker, who could barely keep his eyes open after putting together 200 media kits, backed out as well. They were dropping like flies.

My other co-worker and I were determined to make it to thee bar, until 5:50 p.m. when we both gave in to Monday exhaustion and officially moved Cinco de Mayo to Ocho de Mayo and decided to celebrate this fiesta with quesadillas instead of alcohol. 

Toto, we're not in college anymore. 

It's Time for a Drink

Every so often a group of coworkers will get together for some post-work beverages at a local watering hole. This is called Happy Hour. 

At Happy Hour everyone is happy because the work day is over and drinks are cheap. Or, they are supposed to be. In reality, while everyone is happy the work day is over but most of the time, happy hour is spent talking about work and complaining about work. Not to mention, the drinks aren't even that cheap. 

There are a few things every good happy hour needs:

1. First and foremost, Alcohol. Lots of it. Obvi. 

2. Greasy food. For every two beers or two glasses of wine or two mixed drinks or two shots (if you're gonna go hardcore) there should be one greasy appetizer. My person favorites include fried calamari, baked brie, potato skins and french fries. 

3. Office gossip! A little gossip never hurt anyone, at least not that badly? Ok, sometimes it backfires but gossip is great and you know you love it (reason #12 why work is like high school). 

4. An awkward moment between a male coworker and a female coworker. A coworker of mine once mentioned a broken bedpost, I jumped into the conversation way too late and brought up a pretty inappropriate reason for a bedpost to be broken. 

5. A drunken make-out! Oh I forgot, this isn't college. 

And there is one thing that every happy hour doesn't need, a next day hangover. That would be so college, so freshman year.

I'll Take Embarassing Moments for $200

Last year, the magazine for which I work celebrated a huge milestone in magazine publishing, selling 2,000 advertising pages in one year. Since magazines close advertising and editing about three months in advance, we realized our accomplishment in October and celebrated accordingly. Two words: Tequila and Margaritas.

The entire office had a delicioso Mexican meal at a popular New York City restaurant. A pomegranate margarita was put into my hands as I walked into our private room and as quickly as I finished it, a fresh glass was given to me. Before I could dig into the tortilla chips and guacamole at my table, we did a round of tequila shots (and I love good tequila). Several margarita's later, I was d-r-u-n-k, drunk! No big deal though, our ad director (who happened to attend the same college as WG2 and I, which means she can drink) was getting sloppy.

Lunch cleared, co-workers with family and trains to catch headed home. I, along with a few other assistants, the ad director and associate publisher, headed to the bar. Two Corona's later, I told the associate publisher that he owed me $200. Yes, I was that drunk.

Why did I think that he owed me $200, you ask? Well, let me tell you...

I've mentioned before that I interned for a summer at my current workplace. That summer, as an incentive for the team to work hard, said associate publisher told everyone that if they sold a certain amount of advertising pages, the entire team would receive a $200 gift card to any advertiser in the magazine. I believe his exact words were "everyone! salespeople, interns, marketing, everyone!" As an intern, who wasn't getting paid, I was pretty excited to receive a gift card to pretty much any place I wanted.

A few weeks later, the art intern and I were asked to put together plagues that were made for everyone's desk that said their name and the advertiser they chose for their gift card. I can't wait to put mine on my desk, I thought. Then, it dawned on me, no one ever asked me what advertiser I wanted a gift card from. We put together all the plaques and placed them on everyone's desk. I didn't get one and I was bummed. I thought I got over it. But apparently, I was holding a bit of a grudge.

"Associate Publisher," I said. "You know that you owe me $200, right"

"Uh, no." He was definitely not as drunk as me. I filled him in and he joked, "Oh, OK, I'll work on that."

I still have my job, so it seems that I wasn't completely out of line, but now I know better than to drink and tell important people they owe me money.

Oh, and you're probably wondering...I didn't get the $200.