I like telling stories. And I like hearing other people’s stories. The stranger, the more awkward, the more uncomfortable, and the more coincidental, the better. Here is one of my favourites:
I joined the company I’m with now in the summer, so by the time the annual low-temperature season festive occasion gathering came about, I’d made some decent friends in the office. I got all dressed up in a low-cut LBD, got my hair did, and off I went.
The bar was open that night and soon everything was hilarious. When the party was closing up shop at 1am, a bunch of us didn’t want to go home, but we couldn’t stay there. “Let’s go to Boystown!” came the call. In that state of “I love everyone and everything!” I was happy to go along.
Somehow I ended up in a cab with 2 fellows I didn’t know very well, a guy from one of our foreign offices, who’d only just arrived earlier that week, and another guy who was outwardly gay, who lead the way.
Once we arrived at the bar, a place called Crews & Tangos, our gay friend told us that he had to meet up with someone at another bar, so off he went. But soon after, the rest of our group of merry men and women joined us for our tourist adventure.
More pops were consumed, I somehow lost the expensive new lipstick I had been convinced to buy by the make-up artist who’d done by face earlier that day, and spilled my Cosmopolitan all over a very well-dressed gentleman who was sitting at the bar (but was very nice about it).
At one point during the night, the lot of us were dancing, en masse—as you do—when I noticed a stranger among us. To my right, a shorter woman started dancing very close to me. Oh well, I shrugged, and kept dancing my face off. And then, all of a sudden, she was riding my leg.
“Whoa!” I exclaimed, moving away. She cackled gleefully, then yelled above the boom boom tunes, “Don’t worry, honey! I know you’re not gay!”
In my head, I thought, so that makes it OK then? And then, in the next moment, this happened:
She motorboated me.
What’s that you say? Don’t know what motorboating is? OK, here you go.
Chances are you’ve heard me tell this story before. Since I’ve told this one several times, I’ve been able to compile the following FAQ:
What did you do?
I screamed and pushed her off!
What did she do?
She laughed and asked why we were all dressed up. I told her we were coming from a Christmas party and that we worked at a bank. When she asked which one, I told her Scotiabank.
Did you like it?
Uh no. I felt so confused. If it had been a guy, it would have been grounds for a swift kick to the jinks. But since it was a woman, and a much smaller one than me, in fact, I didn’t really know what to think. So, I did what came naturally at that point and simply laughed my arse off.
Originally posted May 15, 2012