Christmas Party and the Little Red Dress

Dear insansapinas,

In the parallel world of bean counters in the far away galaxy, when I was just making baby steps climbing the corporate ladder, I was ecstatic when I received an invitation for a Christmas party. It  was my first Corporate Christmas Party. Take note, not a Christmas party of league of cubicle dwellers like me and my neighbor who at the time looked more like a victim of domestic violence because  of the blue black face caused by her recent rhinoplasty. The cosmetic surgeon was the recipient of her bonus. Or-- my other neighbor, the computer geek who conveniently lost his English everytime, the system crushed. I wish I could speak his language which he claimed to be inspired by a dead language. I suspected that he wished death to whoever was sending us viruses.  It was not a Christmas party of our department which was tasked of preparing the fat bonuses  of the movers and shakers of the Firm-amounts of which were equivalent to our one year paycheck . If we were cranky, you know why.  Life isn't just fair. (sigh). The party was for our honor (binola pa kami, di na lang kinuwarta), the hardworking corporate slaves serving the corporate masters by making their work  a lot easier. That year, we successfully installed, broke in and started using the accounting system which did not only spare the signatories of the checks from having blue hands (naaah, not the muscle pain disorder) but the blue coming from the ink by manually signing the checks. We introduced the electronic signatures and we  made the reports available for every department managers who by the way did not know how to interpret them. 


I got two days to look for something to wear. A little black dress perhaps? But it was not an evening affair. More of late lunch and early dinner. Besides, black was already my color theme every day. So I decided to look for a dress that was festive in color-red in the little women's corner of a high end store. There goes m bonus.


A closet friend of mine volunteered to contact his friend, the beauty stylist to come for home service. (wala siyang suitor na presidente) Sagot ng friend ko ang bayad. 


After three hours, I emerged a few pounds heavier; net of the lost weight of foregoing two meals, breakfast and lunch. Isang pound yata ng make-up ang kinulapol sa mukha ko. Hindi naman, baku-bako ang aking fez.


My normally straight hair got a frizz and I got two pairs of fake eyelashes. Make that one and half pound. Ermm make that two pounds to include the chandelier ala Catherine Zeta Jones earrings. 


Did my friend tell the stylist that I would be performing in White House or would just  be atttending a sit-down dinner? Sabi niya, inspired lang raw niya akong i-make-over kasi para raw akong manika. MANIKA ng MANGKUKULAM.


Anyway, I looked fabulous. Seldom do I wear make-up and I offered that sacrifice for the  atonement of my venial sins-- like tripping off power cable of an office mate who was not too friendly with probies. 


Even without eating two meals, I found it hard to squeeze into my little red dress. I could have gotten one size bigger. The cut was such that it tapered to the biggest asset of my body, my ass. The moment I wore the dress, I never attempted to sit down lest, I might hear a ripping sound. Leechzee, Ang hirap maganda. hehehe


My neighbor, the computer geek waited for me at the entrance of the hotel. He was ashamed to come alone. 
He complimented my dress while he was trying to blend into the drapery. Magkakulay sila ng kaniyang suot.



The hall was lit up like a Christmas tree. A few over-made up ladies and a group of  intoxicated yuppies were boisterously  telling corny jokes in one corner.


Then I looked at the dining tables and chairs. Haah. Panic.  
 Gusto ko nang tumakbo pauwi.


The table covers were in red. The chairs were draped with red big ribbons. Pag naupo ako, mukha ko lang ang makikita. Baka mapagkamalan pa akong bakante ang upuan ko at upuan ako. Where's my invisibility cloak when I needed it. 


Me and my little red DRESS. Tseh. 


Pinaysamaerika