The company that PG used to work for has a big Christmas party every year. I know I’ve mentioned it before: swanky hotel downtown, big dinner, lots of door prizes, dancing, full bar, cheap hotel rooms for the night … We have gone to this party for a number of years, but PG doesn’t work there any more, so I thought that was it.
However, we saw some of his buddies from his old job a couple of weekends ago, and they were all asking if we were going to this year’s party. They could get us tickets (they’re free, but you just have to request them, apparently) and we could still get the cheap room rate for the night, so we decided to go. It’s always been a fun night with fun people, so this year would likely be just as good.
The party is tonight. Keep in mind that we have known about this party for – oh, let’s say three weeks. PG said he would “take care of the details”, since this is his crowd and his former workplace.
As of last evening, I had heard nothing about the “details” of the party. We hadn’t even talked about it. So I texted him to find out what was going on (I’m the blue, he’s the white):
So it looks like there is, in fact, a Christmas party tonight, so I’d better go buy those tights I need. We have a room for the night, so no one has to be the designated driver.
What PG doesn’t seem to think I need to know is a little detail concerning the time we’re supposed to be there – and I don’t remember what it was last year. I don’t know if we’re checking into the hotel room early to have a drink and relax before going down to the party. I don’t even know if I’m picking him up at his place!
I think I might just loll around at home till I get a panicky phone call from PG. Can’t you just imagine it? “Where the hell ARE you?!? We’re supposed to be downtown already! What’s going ON?!”
And I will smile sweetly and vaguely say, “Oh, we’re supposed to be there now? I didn’t know …”
Either that or I’ll call him myself. It seems that this texting stuff just doesn’t work for PG.