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.