PLK: Employee Party of DOOM!
Archive - Andrew's JunkAuthor: Andrew Traweek
I’m jumping ahead a bit to the end of the summer season, but bear with me. I want to save some of the better stuff for last.
So, I barely survived my one and only season at Happy Ancient Egypt Land, and it was time to attend the annual Employee Party. At first, I wasn’t interested in going. After all, why should I go to a party celebrating a park that put numerous people (including myself) in the Emergency Room?
The real selling point on the flyer was unlimited rides on the Go-Karts. I figured, “Hey, I have the chance to do donuts legally tonight, why not?”
I got off work at 4:30, and promptly flew up the mountain at 80mph to shower, change clothes, and get back down to the park for the party at 7:00. My friends asked me why the hell I was going and I tried to give them a straight answer. “There’s this hot chick there… and I want to make out with her.” was the answer they most believed.
So, I get down there right as the party is starting… no one is there. The GM is sitting around with his thumb up his butt (and sniffing it a few times), and food services is still setting up the tables. My intermediate supervisor (my old one quit, smart lady!) told me to go out to the Midway and work trash detail! Okay… I’m in semi-nice clothes, off the clock, and don’t really give two monkey craps about the park. I just looked at him with a blank face, and walked away.
Boredom began to set in, and I was ready to go home when the guys up at Laser Tag ran into me, and asked if I was up for a game. Of course, just being employees, all the rules were thrown out the window. We could climb on things, jump down from the rafters, and the eyes were fair targets.
Little did I know it was a trap. They had the Representative for the Laser Tag system there, in the prep room, sniping me every chance he got. It was retarded.
Anyway, about the time they were finished thoroughly kicking my ass, the announcement went over the PA that the awards ceremony was starting. Ugh. Could anything possibly blow more than this? Upper Management propaganda at it’s worst. They made the park sound like it was the best thing since Vekoma. Which I guess has some truth to it.
So, I’m sitting at a table with one guy I hated, and one of the cutest chicks that ever worked under me… and her HUMONGOUS friend. If your food sat untouched for two-seconds, she claimed imminent domain and inhaled it. Which I didn’t really mind, since the cute chick was wearing a really low-cut blouse. I think she caught me sneaking a peek a few times. But she didn’t slap me, so she must’ve wanted me.
That’s beside the point though. I actually won a prize! Woo-hoo! Uhhhh… a bowling certificate? Thanks. At least it wasn’t a comp pass to come back to the park. Cheap bastards. WHERE’S MY EMPLOYEE OF THE YEAR AWARD!?
After the banquet/awards/brainwashing ceremony, we were all herded outside to the Go-Kart track for the ‘games’. I could barely contain myself! We hopped in the cars, and some fat dude came around and filled all the empty space in the cars with crushed soda cans. The goal was to drive up, and throw them in a garbage can in the middle of the course. This is too damn easy.
So, I take off. I make the first lap before I notice something all-too enticing. The Human Resources Director, standing right next to the can, marking down who made the shots. “God loves me.” I thought to myself.
I reached around the back of the car, into the engine bay to disable the throttle limiter. There’s nothing like careening around a corner at Warp 5, and sending the 90-year old custodial chick into the wall in a burst of fiery fire. (Like fire, but cooler.) Of course, it serves her right for stopping on the course so she could throw her cans. She might as well have just got out, walked to the can, and dropped them in. Dirty, filthy, CHEATER!
Third Lap: I take my first shot. It would forever be known as the shot heard ‘round the world. 45mph. Sharp corner. I crank it to bring the back end around, so the front-end of the car was facing the can dead on, while still traveling sideways. I rocket a can out there… and it hit the Human Resources Director square in the forehead!
Of course, a myriad of expletives was cursed (mostly by me), as I cranked up the juice and tried to get away. By this time, all the pansies who couldn’t throw had left their cans all over the racetrack. And me, being as brilliant as I am, started the first ever go-kart hockey game! There was slamming, ramming, and a whole lotta crashing going down. No real goal, other than to ram your opponent into the boards as hard as you could.
Of course, we were yelled at. No one listened.
After I got kicked off with a group of my other co-workers (Midway OWNZ U! No, wait… Midway KILLZ U!), it was off to the Laser Tag arena. For some reason, they had 30 friggin’ people in the cramped arena, and expected someone to win? No one made it out of that game with anything more than 50 points. I can still hear the cries for help. I can still see the severed limbs…
Okay, so I blew off the Laser Tag games, and walked around looking for a.) Laser Tag Chick or b.) Thunderbolt Chick. Oh, and c.) What’shername Lifeguard that Evan stole from me…
Well, I found Thunderbolt Chick… macking on some other guy. Laser Tag Chick was taking a night course at the college, and I hadn’t seen hide-nor-hair of Hottie Lifeguard Chick. This night was a bust. So I went out to the parking lot to get drunk with the guys.
After a few drinks, and a few donuts in my Intrepid, I went home.
The Moral of This Story: Parties suck unless there’s a minimum of 5 naked women, lots of booze, and people swinging off chandeliers.
- The Monkey