photocopy-assToday’s Office Party Gone Wrong is courtesy of Bangmaster, and has the double-bonus of humiliation in daylight and in the wilderness.  Who else is excited!?

(If you missed the first three installments, catch up on previous workmate-witnessed shame spirals here, here, and here, and don’t miss out on the comments sections.)

Bangmaster explains that, with a distinct lack of extracurricular activities available in her “podunk Florida town,” her co-workers have turned to the logical hobby of kayaking.  A lot.  Bangmaster herself enjoys a nice kayak, but has only made it an office group activity on one occasion.  She’ll explain why…

(Ed note:  Although Bangmaster’s handles her narration with admirable skill, try taking a drink every time she’s forced to type the words “kayak” or “paddle.”  Our seasoned alkies are free to throw in “water” and/or “river” as well.  Happy – *falls down*).

We all met at 9 a.m. at the kayak launch. We had a bunch of moderately experienced kayakers, one know-nothing, one expert, and me. I don’t know if I’m an expert kayaker or anything, but I went to camp a lot as a kid and have spent a lot of time in canoes and kayaks and at one point my family owned a kayak, so I’m comfortable with a paddle in my hands. So I volunteered to share a kayak with the know-nothing paddler in our group.

Well, as soon as we got in the water, we knew we had a problem. I was in front, so I could steer, and she was in the back so all she had to do was paddle. The back is also where the controller for the rudder was, which she knocked out of place, so that, no matter how hard I steered, we kept paddling in circles as the rest of our group steered down the river. I finally channeled my inner Macgyver and rigged it straight and we carried on.

After about an hour, we decided to stop and I decided the only way I was going to get through the day was to drink. And drink. And drink and drink some more. Thankfully, we had a case of Coors in our kayak (hey, don’t knock it. It tastes like shit to begin with, so when it’s warm and full of salty water, you won’t notice) to get me through the day.

Now, we were originally supposed to go out for a few hours, turn in our kayaks and go eat lunch. But thanks to a few wrong turns in a mangrove swamp, we spent a good 8 hours out on the water. Which I spent drinking. And apparently I was the only one. My coworkers told me I flipped out about alligators in the water (totally plausible), spiders in my canoe (totally plausible) and the coworker who was creepily in love with me (totally true). Not to mention the fact that my boat was always, always, ALWAYS lagging behind, no matter how hard I paddled.

After a few hours on the water, we all had to stop to take a bathroom break. Fortunately, we were still near civilization and some of our group used porta-potties at a nearby construction site. I, being the spoiled princess I am, knocked on someone’s door and used their toilet.

After a few more hours, we needed another bathroom break, but by this point, we were out in the wilderness. And, up until this point in my life, I had never peed anywhere other than a diaper and a toilet.

So there I was, wasted out of my skull, squatting in my H&M bikini and Soffe shorts, trying to hide behind some mangrove branches as my coworkers cheered me on. Nature finally took over, I successfully peed in the river, and when I got up, gave my coworkers the full-moon, bare-assed salute they deserved.

Of course, I had just been squatting in the mud…

Eventually we made it back to shore, although in the meantime, I popped out of my bikini top and lost a flip flop. When we got back to the cars (fortunately I rode with someone else), I borrowed someone else’s shoes, and put on a t-shirt, although I did take off my bathing suit top before I did it (in the privacy of a bathroom, though). We hit up a coastal restaurant for dinner–the only place that would take 10 muddy, bedraggled paddlers–where I drunkenly slurped down hangover-preventing cokes and a giant platter of fried shrimp.

And then, after all that, you know what I found out? That bitch in the back of my kayak NEVER PADDLED.

Please, share your Office Party Abyss horror stories in the comment section.  If you have a more detailed (but not too long – do as I say, not as I do!) story to share and would like it to be considered for publication, email tarred.and.tailfeathered@gmail.com, and we’ll post the top story.  Include your chosen pseudonym and title your email “Office Party.”  

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