Indy Party Peeps

The Company of Friends

Text & Photos by: Shannon Kelley
Gould

I think it’s safe to say that most of us have a love/hate
relationship with the company holiday parties we are obliged to
attend each year. As is the case with any party, the company party
holds the potential for fun and, in equal measure, the potential
for disaster. But the stakes are higher. What might be a minor faux
pas among friends could be cause for termination if done in the
boss’s presence. If you hit the sauce a little too hard and wind up
praying to the porcelain god at a friend’s house, your rep as the
evening’s drunken idiot is nothing a can of Comet and an apology
can’t fix; at the work party, who knows who might walk in, or how
long you’ll be labeled the company souse.

Posted on a pal’s refrigerator, a xeroxed copy of your rump
might be appreciated the morning after, while the same naked bum
might land you in an uncomfortable conversation with your HR
enforcer, were it to appear on the mailroom bulletin board. The
random hookup is a minor item for the post-mortem gossip agenda
when it goes down in the company of friends; at work, as is the
case with all such minor indiscretions, these delicious tidbits
have a much longer shelf life. So, while all the potential for
career destruction easily explains the hate part of the equation,
where does the love come from? The answer, I believe, is really
quite simple. Try as we might to deny it, everyone loves drama.