This past Friday was Big Company Inc.'s annual "you're going to have fun if you like it or not" event — a chance for the contractors and employees to have a day unencumbered by work where you could just play games, chat with and meet new coworkers and have a great time.

Without alcohol. So for me…eh, not so good. Kidding!

On the real though…I considered calling in sick. I've been to these things before with other companies and they're usually always the same. They cart you into some conference room and show you this boring presentation, followed by a crappy lunch, some forced "team building" and all the employees rebelling against that and settling into their own cliques. I knew this wouldn't be any different. Actually, it would be worse because I have one group of people that won't even address me without having it wrapped in an insult. But I swallowed my pride and went through with it. Besides, I wasn't about to waste a vacation day for that — I've got a trip coming up.

I got in early that morning, and as I was stirring myself up a cup of hot cocoa, I noticed this gentleman walking through the building wearing a sweatsuit and looking in people's cubicles. Being the ever-vigilant long arm of the law around these parts, I went to investigate.

"Excuse me sir, can I help you?"

"Oh…no, I'm just looking around and trying to get a feel for the place." I noticed he didn't have a company badge. Dude was an office creeper!

"Well if you're looking for someone, I can show you where they sit if you'd like."

"No…I'm good."

"Riiight…OK." I went back to my desk and called security, and I assumed they carted him away. My good deed was done for the day…or so I had thought. After all, the trip was still coming.

I didn't figure in my ace-in-the-hole Mr. Mon — the islander who started with me the same day and my lunch buddy. If he was going to be there, then it was going to be all good. Truth be told, he's getting the same treatment as I am on the other side of the floor but is staying the course (sorry Bush!) for his wife and kids and their $700 a month day care bill. Damn, that's my rent! Anyway, we loaded the buses and as they called off names I heard one of the managers say "Oh yeah, Mr. Mon is not coming. He called in sick."

Damnit!

As the buses pulled off, the same manager — who kept referring to herself as the cruise director, which I shall now bestow upon her — said that everyone should go and sit next to someone they don't know in an attempt to get to know people. Well with Mr. Mon gone, there were now an odd number of people. Folks started to pair up and I got this delightfully ghettotastic little dirt urchin named SiSi. As she sat down, she said "I just want to let you know that I did not want to sit here." Fine…then take your little narrow ass back to where you came from you ingrate. I wanted to say it, but you know I'm such a nice guy. And I love the ladies! She sat arms crossed with her lip poked out for the duration of the ride.

Cruise Director walked the aisles handing out name badges and questionnaires for us to fill out. "The key is to let the other person you're sitting next to interview you and then they will fill out your badge with some interesting facts about you. It will be fun!"

It will be pride-obliterating.

SiSi took it upon herself to go ahead and fill out her questionnaire, as did I. Then we exchanged name tags and I asked her for some interesting facts about herself.

"Well…I'm 40, but I don't look it."

"That's not interesting. That's just good health."

"Well it's interesting to me." Alrighty then. I wrote on her badge: SiSi - She Who Does Not Looketh Forty Yet.

"That ain't how you spell my name."

"Oh…I'm sorry. Then how do you spell it?"

"Big C, little E, big C, little E."

"Oh…like CeCe Winans?"

"No, like me…SiSi." The bus pulled up to our destination, and SiSi Whinings quickly scrawled on my badge.

"Here you go."

All she did was draw a blank line (since she didn't ask my name) and put under that "I don't really know". Bitch. I went to Cruise Director and asked her if I could have another badge.

"Well what happened to yours?"

"Umm…typographical error."

"Well we don't have any more badges — we ran out. We bought just enough for everyone."

"There should be one extra since Mr. Mon didn't show up."

"We're out." Pissed and badgeless, I followed my co-workers inside and filed into the auditorium.

As I suspected, the presentation was boring and I almost fell asleep, safely ensconced in a dark corner and nodding off. The vice president got up to speak.

"And now with great pleasure, I want to introduce a man that is near and dear to me. We've worked together for several years and he's going to be your new Web manager…" And as I looked up, I recognized the guy immediately…

…it was the office creeper. The office creeper — or rather, the guy whom I thought was an office creeper — is now my new boss' boss' boss. And I reported him to security. For fuck's sake, at this rate I'll get fired before I can resign.

"And this morning I did meet one of you already…big, Black guy…kinda big head…"

Yes, now I'm being heckled by my boss' boss' boss who I reported to security.

"Where is he…oh, there he is in the back! Shine the light on him - stand up young man. This young man saw me this morning and immediately reported me to security because he thought I was an office creeper! Isn't that funny?"

The crowd laughs and I can't shrink down to atom-size fast enough at this point.

"Sit down young man –we'll talk later."

A hushed "Ooooo" rises from the crowd. So much for being Mr. Vigilant and Aware of My Work Surroundings.

The rest of the day was pretty boring. I would see people playing two-player games and ask to join in…and they'd refuse. I ate lunch alone — no one would come sit with me at a booth and my waiter ignored me for about 20 minutes as he kept playing around with the ladies sitting in the booths in front and behind me. I got his attention when I tripped him though.

I played most of the games alone except for this old school Street Fighter game…one of the other Snobbers hopped on to beat me and I proceeded to whup his ass seven times in a row (to add injury to insult, the other designers crowded around cheering him on only to watch him lose). That felt really good (even though that's more reason for them not to talk to me). Luckily, I had my fill of that place and those people right as we were ready to leave.

Oh, and I finally decided on a pseudonym for my direct manager…Brooding Velma. I saw Brooding Velma ahead of me as I was getting on the bus so I took this as an opportunity to strike up some conversation with her.

"Wow, you really racked up today on stuffed animals!"

"…"

"Yeah…yeah..so what have you got there?"

"Just a few things. You know, whatever."

I get two seats away and one of her buddies comes up and she's all screeching with delight at her sweatshop-in-Malaysia-made stuffed doodads. Now her behavior is something I have been trying to put my finger on in my few observations of her, but the only vibe I get from her is 100% bitch. Not prude bitch or stank bitch or condescending bitch or racist bitch…just straight bitch.

L'eau du Bitch, if you will.

The Essence of Bitch.

I can see right now this is not going to work out.

SiSi traipsed her ass on the bus with this big gaudy bird stuffed animal she won. She looked at me and said "Hey Marcus."

"…huh?"

"Marcus…that's you."

"No, it's Karsh."

"OK, Marcus." Then she sat down next to me chatting it up about how much fun she had and how she had fried shrimp for lunch and oh — she never eats just anybody's coleslaw but the coleslaw here was the bomb and a whole bunch of other bullshit I didn't care about. And she kept calling me Marcus! On purpose!

The bus pulled up to work, and I hopped off and double-timed it towards the MARTA station.

"It was really nice meeting you, Marcus!"

sigh