Not A Party Animal

I am really not a Party Animal.  Not in any way.

My company gave a party tonight to celebrate 100 years of being in business.  I swallowed down all of my anxieties and went.

Imagine - me - in a football stadium with 12000 other people.  Alarm bells were ringing.

We had through our little work WhatsApp group arranged to meet.  Naturally no-one was there.

And no, I can't enter the stadium through this gate (no-one coming out and I would not have trampled anyone), I have to go round to the other side and go in that way.  Thanks.  That was helpful.

It was most definitely a "Party" planned by managers.

I hung around.  Waited to see if I recognised anyone as I listened to "music".

I was getting fed up.

And then the straw that broke this camel's back.

"A tribute to the people who are keeping the party running."  Cue 50 very young people - 18, 19, 20 or so - who come running out of the tunnel used for football matches.  And then 20 minutes of pretending to clean while "dancing" to what can only be described as sh1t music.

I like modern dance. I loved Mark Morris' version of The Nutcracker.  I have seen lots of dance.  This wasn't dance, it was poncing around and was utter crap.

I realised I was not going to get this time back and I left.

I lasted 70 minutes.  It was <very bad word> awful.  And no, I don't want a <very bad word> Classic Hot Dog.