Adventures in Cap Hill #673

December 14, 2010 1:20 pm Sir Haxington Seattle

Company holiday parties are funny things. Most companies put them on for their employees, it’s no secret. Overall the pre-paid gatherings are a positive thing. It gets people out, gets them social, which is important to teamwork within groups. Groups who socialize will communicate better, and therefore will do better work together. At least, I think that’s the theory someone made up once so they had an excuse to party.

But I’m not here to talk about my own company party. No, that wouldn’t do.

This time, it’s all about a place that sells cupcakes.

…

We arrive on the scene. They’ve shut down making cupcakes for one night, and one night only. They throw a big party at one of the bakeries. It’s a pretty awesome little event.

Three types of sassy drinks are served, and oh yeah, the keg is in the back. Behind the bathrooms. Outside. In the back alley.

Karaoke DJ with his full set up is chillin’ in the corner, trying to get the crowd warmed up. Some bad-ass Mexican food is waiting in the back for us. So good.

I’m DDing, cause it’s not my party. I get a little champagne and nurse it far longer than I’ve ever done before. Will power ladies and gentlemen, do you have it?

We grab a corner. Lady Hawk starts talking shop and introducing me to people. People I’ve never met before but they’ve heard a lot about me. I’ve heard a lot about them too, but when you’ve never met them before, you get a crazy mix of stories that are hard to pin to who.

Eventually we sit down. I’m sitting there in bright red shoes and a bright red jacket and a bright red shirt. Blue jeans. Look, I wore it to work that day. I didn’t get time to dress up properly for the party. So I’m like super red, and everyone else is hipstered out. Even Lady Hawk.

Oh well. Everyone is pretty nice and pretty cool. Some of the guys Mandi worked wanted to know about what I did, which is fine. People for some reason are often very shy about asking me about work stuff, which I don’t really mind. I’m pretty honest and up front with them.

“Yeah I can’t tell you about it.”

Which is fine for some people. One guy knew a lot about games and was super into Valve and Blizzard which was cool. I always appreciate someone who can talk about that kind of stuff. Turns out the guy had been a contract tester for Nintendo at one point. Another guy was a volunteer fire fighter, which I was genuinely interested in. But most dudes don’t typically like to talk about work. And it’s loud. So, not the best setting for social interactions between people who aren’t drunk and don’t want to dance or sing..

We had a good chat. But we hung back while the ladies did their thing.

By now, things were getting crunkulated up in this piece. I always forget what it’s like not being the one drinking. You notice a large shift in the mood of the crowd. Free alcohol is coursing through the veins of most of the party people in the room. The music gets louder, people get louder, people start dancing. People start doing karaoke from what I call the “classic karaoke set list” which includes Billy Idol, AC/DC and the occasional old school rap like three people know for some reason, but they know it really well. People sing like shit an no one cares. Loud, loud, louder.

Not that it’s bad. It’s just like ‘Woah.’ It hits you like a ton of bricks if you’re not part of it. There’s a reason people drink alcohol at parties I guess. Numbs the shock.

And the hipster chicks! Oh man, the drunk tatted-up hipster chicks. God bless you honies, you make the world go ’round.

So, I feel like the party is all good. Good times were had by all, the food was great, yada yada yada life is good.

But really want to talk about the crazy thing I saw, which is why this turned out to be a certifiable Adventure in Cap Hill at all.

Lady Hawk and I are leaving the party. Walking up the street, alone. We see a girl coming up the hill behind us. Dressed pretty nicely. Short skirt. Heels. Shiny top. Expensive, very short hair. Skinny and pretty.

We’re chatting, doing out thing, and this chick is now almost behind us. She was in a hurry to go somewhere.

She passed on on the left, but then we all had to stop at the crosswalk. It’s late, there’s not a lot of cars out.

So we’re waiting. Sitting there. Patiently.

Then out of the corner of my eye, I see the chick wheel around. Then the yelling began. From the car on the road.

“HEY GET IN THE CAR!”

“NO WHAT THE FUCK YOU GUYS LEFT ME!”

She says this all pouty like, but she’s also yelling. In mid-scream, she begins flipping off the car with both hands.

Good, now we’re getting somewhere. This night will be far more entertaining that I had originally anticipated. Good show, universe.

So, they start yelling back and fourth.

We decide to cross the street cause you know what, I don’t need this shit right now, but I’ll sure as fuck watch from across the street.

“Get in! No you left me! No we didn’t! Yes you did! NOO! YESSS FUCK YOU GUYS”

So we watch. And the chick storms off. And now Lady Hawk and I are commentating to each other. Like this is some sort of spectator sport for people on the other side of the lake.

“Oh wow. Huh, she didn’t get in. I hope everything is okay…”

So now we’re getting concerned. Are these guys being assholes? The car had like four people in it, and they weren’t all dudes, and it was a shitty car. It was like a friend fight or something, right?

Anyway, so we’re watching this magnificent display of humanity take place, but it’s getting old. We walk away. As we head towards our car, Lady Hawk looks over her shoulder…

“No… oh no…”

Oh yes. The chick is walking back towards the car, but in the middle of the street. In the open road.

She then proceeds to climb up the bumper, in her heels, crawls onto the hood, lays down, on the hood of the car and starts switching between doing sexy poses and beating the hood and windshield with her fists.

More flip offs. More sassy looks. On while on the hood of a car in the middle of the street. What the fuck is going ON?

And then it happens.

The driver presses the gas petal.

Now, all I reaaaaaly wanted at this point in time was my good camera and / or the police. I dug into my pocket to get my cell phone camera but then in my brain was telling me… “What the fuck are you doing? Don’t take your eyes off of this for a second!”

Keep in mind, my first thought is for the safety of the people involved and THEN the entrainment value of this glorious spectacle.

So Lady Hawk is now very concerned. I’m slightly enjoying this. And I’m the one that had barely anything to drink.

But the car slowly stopped in the middle of the intersection. He didn’t gas it up then brake it and make her body go rag-dolling into the middle of the intersection. Yes, this is a good thing. But the mental image of that still makes me smile for some reason. It wouldn’t have had it actually happened.

She punches the hood and windshield a few more times as a result, then slides off the hood.

The she runs away. The car honks their horn some more.

She stops. She runs back. She gets in the car. And they drive away together.

And it’s over. We get in our car and basically forget the whole thing ever happened.

Now, all I can think about is how I really want to hang out with this person because holy hell, she would that be a constant source of entrainment.  But I think getting my car kicked and clawed apart on a nightly basis is a scary prospect so maybe it’s not the best idea in the world.

Oh, Cap Hill, I can’t wait to go back and visit you. We always have such a great time together. No, I don’t have your bail money… why are you yelling at me? STOP IT