DC Etiquette #8: Have a really awkward holiday office party.

I know, I know, this is not DC specific, this is a global phenomenon. But I'll post about what I feel like posting about, damnit. Be advised, however, that the awkward story I'm about to share with you has a lot to do with the fact that people in DC are socially inept. As the tv that keeps me company on a nightly basis while I drink a bottle of wine alone in bed can tell you, I certainly have plenty of room to talk about being socially graceful and outgoing.

Regardless.

The holiday season is upon us. To many, this means dealing with fuckloads of people who are running around shopping malls, awkward once-a-year-reunions with extended family, and great eruptive family fights. While in the throes of all of these great holiday emotions, one fantastic holiday tradition may have escaped your mind: the office holiday party.

I have a pretty great track record with holiday parties. And by that I mean I've never been able to remember one.

What great tidbits I do have in tact from my work Christmas party last year entail my great friend and I failing to sing any of the words correctly to "Wonderwall" by Oasis (bet you're sad you missed that) and one of my managers slinging an arm around my shoulders while throwing a camera at someone shouting, "TAKE A PICTURE OF THE TWO BITCHES!"

I did not know I was thought of this way. Consequently, the photo looked something like this:

Well, you know. With females in normal dress. But the same expressions. Use your imagination.

However, this year at my office Christmas party, I experienced the most awkward holiday party moment known to mankind. I challenge you to come up with something more uncomfortable.

I will change names to protect the integrity of my coworkers. Therefore, the woman known as **** will now be referred to as Twatbreath.

Twatbreath and I were always friendly with each other. As in she always remembered my name when I saw her in the hallway, and would greet me very excitedly using my first name, while I would only be able to respond with "HI! .... ahm... how are... YOU?!", trying to muster up the same enthusiasm she had in knowing my name by demonstrating I had zero knowledge of hers (note social grace reference from the first paragraph).

One day, Twatbreath and I had an extremely minor altercation that resulted in Twatbreath giving me a partial death look when she greeted me by my first name every time I saw her walking down the hallway from thereon out. So you can imagine my surprise when the events I'm about to describe transpired between myself and Twatbreath at my recent holiday party.

Seated at a table with two other coworkers, I saw Twatbreath was getting ready to leave the party. I had only had one other interaction with Twatbreath at the party thus far, when I saw her and said, "Hi Twatbreath!" in the friendliest and most enthusiastic tone I possess, only to recieve an I-hate-you-smile as she walked past me to the cake table (note: I did not really call her "Twatbreath", I called her by her "real" name). Moving on. She warmly parted ways with one of my coworkers with a hug and kiss on the cheek. As I was at an awkward angle seated in my chair with my back to her, I simply wished Twatbreath a safe journey home and said goodbye with a friendly wave and a smile. I thought this was the universal signal for "DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME".

Tip: Do not try this evasive maneuver at your next holiday party.

I say this, because apparently that body language is actually indicative of wanting to be touched. As Twatbreath headed for the door by walking behind my chair, she did a surprise-Twatbreath-sneak-attack. She then rounded on me, and while I sat at the table with an extremely puzzled look on my face, Twatbreath bent down over me like Rafiki about to anoint Simba in the opening scene of the Lion King, and kissed me on my forehead.

It is important here to note that up until this point in my life, the only woman who has kissed me on my forehead to part ways has been my own mother.

The other people seated near the table and myself all fell into an extremely uncomfortable silence. The silence eventually gave way to teeth-baring grimaces of sympathy and awkward I'm-just-going-t0-look-sideways-to-avoid-eye-contact-with-you expressions.

I hope envisioning this scenario has also caused you to die just a tiny bit on the inside, as my coworkers and I all did after Twatbreath left the room with her awkward forehead kiss.

Thankfully, it was time to leave the party, and I pretty much immediately seized my jacket and ran for the safe haven of my car.

However, I'm thinking when I see Twatbreath at work tomorrow I'm going to walk up to her, say nothing, place a hand on each side of her face, and kiss her forehead with vigor. I may accidentally spit a little on her. I also may or may not currently have a cold. Just sayin'.

Happy Holiday Season!