Love and the Life of the Party

Hubs is always a hit at parties. He's my favorite party accessory because everyone loves him and he loves everyone once he has a drink or two in him.

So when "Oilfield Workers Appreciation" weekend happened and the office threw a big party for the entire staff, I was excited for Hubs to get to know his co-workers a little bit better. Even though spouses weren't invited, I knew the night would be a great time for Hubs to break the "new guy in the office" blues. Or maybe "the only guy speaking English" blues. Either one, I was happy for this equalizer of people - vodka.

I got the phone call a couple hours into the party when Hubs called and asked me to meet up with him at the restaurant. Having already experienced a night out in our tiny Siberian town, I was quick to redeem myself and/or make the same mistakes again.

When I arrived, Hubs had quite the posse surrounding him. Just as I had suspected. Hubs had become the life of the party. I jumped right in.

Immediately we were ushered to the already packed dance floor. Apparently, Hubs had avoided hitting the dance floor by saying that he only dances with his wife, so he had no excuse once people figured out I was there. Dancing in Russia makes me laugh because anything goes. If they've seen it on a random music video, they'll try it on the dance floor. It was also on the dance floor where I caught myself humming along to the techno songs and I realized that somehow this music had made its way in and I had no idea how. Probably because they play that kind of music everywhere, from the supermarket to waiting rooms. Even Hubs was singing along, it's all they listen to in the shop at work.

Even now, I'm really not embarrassed. We were both swept into the Russian way. And love it or hate it, the Russian soundtrack is weird techno music.

If I thought the Russian club scene took some getting used to, Russian work parties are even more or a culture shock. That much booze at a work sponsored party in America would be a liability. Here in Russia, it's the standard. I don't know how people look their co-workers in the eye on Monday.

Hubs told me that Monday that at least two people greeted him by name in the hallway. He didn't recognize either of them. If that's not proof of a successful work function, I don't know what is.

Cheers to the successes in the workplace with the people we only half-remember but will never forget.