Staff Christmas Party

"Umm, so what are you wearing to the staff Christmas party?" I asked Mrs. M after school on Friday.

"You're GOING to the staff Christmas party??" She responded.

"You're NOT!?!" In my mind, there was no question.

Fact: black people are way more fun than white people. I realized this in high school, where I was actually a minority student. Our core-study classes were pretty segregated, unfortunately, but I found myself much preferring the company in my elective classes. Who else had the balls to lock the ornery Mrs. W in her lab closet or offer Mrs. L weed in exchange for an A?

In college, I found myself missing that culture; I was surrounded by a pretty homogenous (learned that word last year when I was teaching Chemistry) group. Thankfully, God soon led me straight through the front doors of RMS, where I'm never at a loss. My co-workers are crazy and hilarious and probably some of the most fun people I know. I went to a mid-afternoon jewelry party hosted by Ms. L last year and had more fun than I'd had in months.

Which brings us up to date. I had been looking forward to this party since I got the invitation in my box a month ago and the thought hadn't even crossed my mind that anyone would consider not attending.

"Mrs. M," I said. "When else in your LIFE are you going to have an opportunity to attend a staff party like THIS? I mean, if our co-workers are as fun as they are at work, think about what they'd be like outside of RMS' walls!"

This assumption was confirmed when Mrs. D and Mrs. J stopped me in the hall about 5 minutes later. "Ms. M. We gon' get our husbands to drive us an' we gon' bring enough moonshine for you too, so you'd BETTER be there!! We gon' turn that place OUT!"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything," I said, and meant it. I was actually pissed that I had a tacky Christmas party hosted by TFA friends to attend later that night. I was NOT going to cut this one short.

Ms. D picked me up at 7, and we arrived at the home of Mr. O shortly after. I flung open the door. "The white girls are here!!"

The whole place burst into laughter. "SHE SAID, 'THE WHITE GIRLS ARE HERE!' HAHAHAHAH M, YOU A FOOL!"

"HAHA yeah, but she know she right, though."

As I'd carefully planned, I chose this moment to take out a Bud Light from my clutch and put a camouflage koozy around it. If I was going to represent 50% of the white population there, I was going to take it and run with it. Again, laughter flooded the room. I was a hit!! A novelty, even.

Mrs. J eyed my beer. "She even got a cover for it!! Looks like I came with the wrong folks!"

"Yeah, Mrs. J. You shoulda been rollin' with the white girls!"

"Yeah I shoulda been rollin' with the white girls!! HAHAHAHA!!"

Highlights of the night included but were not limited to:

1. teaching/performing of the Toot it and Boot it dance

2. the women talking about their husbands in ways I cannot repeat because my grandmother reads this blog

3. Mrs. A forcing me to play christmas carols on the piano while Mrs. J sang along

4. our rich, white, usually no-nonsense principal slapping herself on the rear end while the entire staff chanted "GHETTO BOOTY!"

5. a collaborative reciting of "white people rules" vs. "black people rules" (which deserve a post in and of themselves but begin with "I'm very sensitive, please don't make me cry," and "Don't touch my f***ing food," respectively).

I laughed so hard I cried and am still laughing as I sit here recounting it. Most people go to their office party out of obligation; mine was probably the best time I'll have all year.

The other party? Would have probably been fun if I hadn't set the bar so high early in the night. Let's face it, though. It never really stood a chance.