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| Photo by Matty Adame on Unsplash |
There is another couple with us on the couch. This is a party for my wife's boss and his new bride, a celebration of the nuptials. They are around here somewhere, I met one of them. They are mingling while we hang with the couch couple. The couch couple seems very nice, tell pretty good jokes, and have no obvious evil intentions. I have to be on the lookout at my wife's work social functions. As an at-home-dad, I have been out of the office politics game for a pretty long time. The ulterior motives that I usually run into involve scamming another cupcake or juice box. On a side note, there are cupcakes here. I'll get to them in a bit.
Around us are all the work people and various family members of the happy couple who just got married. Everyone seems nice and I have absolutely no connection to any of them. I am the +1, the rando guy that shows up just to judge you on the quality of food that is served and if there is free alcohol. I give this party a plus 10. There is free whiskey, pizza, and these ravioli things.
I go to these parties every year with Hossmom. In that time, I have become the master at blending in and small talk. I find it easy, there is no pressure here on me at all. My wife has to say all the right things, talk to the right people and basically not make a fool of herself. But for me, I'm different. I have no one to impress. No one even knows who I am and my wife can safely distance herself from me at any moment. I'm two glasses of whiskey in as I study the ravioli. I think it's got cheese in there.
Hossmom usually does a terrible job with me at these things. I don't mean that she embarrasses herself. I mean that she forgets to introduce me at all. At the beginning of the party, she left me hanging talking to some guy about hair dryers and steak. I love steak so it was all good. Hair dryers, not so much. My wife is in advertising so you would be surprised at the conversations that get linked together. Such as the meat hair dyers--both clients that her company represents.
I have learned that it is better to roam around and just introduce myself, networking for no other reason than practice. I've gotten pretty good at it. Once you learn that there are no real consequences for what you say, because these people will never see you again, I can crack jokes left and right all night. No accountability, that is how you survive these things.
Hossmom is talking to her work friends and the husband about advertising. They are deep into shop talk, as one of the other husbands works in advertising. I nod at the appropriate places, maybe tell a joke somewhere, then get back to my happy place--the crusted ravioli. Now I think there is some meat in there. I should see if anyone has a hair dryer handy so I can use it to figure this ravioli out.
That's the next thing I learned about surviving my wife's work parties. Always appear busy. No one wants to the be odd duck sitting next to the wall appearing to do nothing, looking longingly at people having fun. No, that won't do at all. So I usually find something to keep myself busy like a mysterious fried ravioli. So many questions, so many things to discover. As my wife and her work friends go deeper into which advertising company has lost which clients, I Indiana Jones the ravioli.
I met my wife's boss at the beginning. Seems like a nice guy, tall as a pine tree in rural Arkansas. A friendly smile, manly handshake and easily sized up. This is my next trick--determining who I could take in a fight. I'm not a violent person, not at all. I just like the mental exercise of it. It keeps me busy as everyone discussed whatever advertising deck they are preparing. Tall guy probably has a pretty good reach. So I would have to close that distance and get to his legs. Once he is subdued, I can get to the ravioli. Advertising people don't look very tough, throughout the years I've decided that I could take most of them. Maybe not the meat hair dryer guy though, he looks serious.
I've eaten about eight of the ravioli things so far. My stomach feels full but I'm going to keep eating. I imagined a whole fake fight just to get to this point, I better keep eating. Definalty meat and cheese in here. Erin and her friends have started to discuss which companies are on the downswing. They are bringing up names of people that I don't know, doing jobs that I have no idea exist. I wonder how much they bullshit each other at these things. Probably a lot and it's sad that they don't get a chance to truly taste the delicious ravioli.
I spy the cupcakes in the corner. They are fancy too. Not normal cupcakes bought from the grocery store. These have been catered, they have only a wisp of frosting on the top. I think I see a red velvet one in there. I call dibs. I eat four of them before Hossmom announces that it is time to go. I say goodbye to my ravioli and the experience that we shared.
This is my last lesson of surviving the spouse work party. When it's time to go, go out with a bang. Shake the hands, smile and leave a lasting impression.
We say goodbye to our couple friends. Hossmom says something in advertising or Klingon, I'm not sure which, and we head to the door. The bride is there! I haven't met the bride yet. As usual, Hossmom doesn't introduce us. So yeah, do my thing.
"Hi! Great party! Really lovely time. Congratulations."
"Thank you!" she says. She really does look wonderful, pure happiness on her face but she also looks a bit confused. Who the hell is this guy with ravioli crumbs in his beard? "I don't think we've had a chance to meet yet."
"Nope. I'm a plus one. We should hang out next time. I'm very fun."
As I leave, I hear one of the other guests start laughing asking "Who was that?"
I'm basically a +1 ninja.
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