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DISAVOW

An embarrassed epistle:

I’m so embarrassed.  My office Christmas party was last week, and my husband really stuck his foot in where it didn’t belong.  My business partner sorted out the date, found the restaurant, selected the menu, bought the wine and beer, and had even made a lovely gift basket for our senior partner!  I just didn’t have the time to do anything, really!  So at dinner then, our senior partner was gushing over how nice everything was, telling my partner how great she’d done everything this year – my stupid husband had to butt in and demand recognition for me!  I’m sure he just assumed I must have helped, but I didn’t.  My partner just demurred and said oh, yes, of course – and I just sat there speechless.  What should I have done?

LISTEN:

How about anything?  Anything at all??

You could have helped with any part of the planning or execution – any part! – and then you would have deserved part of your ill-gotten praise.  How long did this take to plan?  You mean to tell me you couldn’t have picked up a gift card at the grocery store, or some gas-station panties-in-a-crack-pipe to help personalize the gift basket??  You couldn’t have picked up a case of beer at any point between knowing the date of the party and showing up to stuff yourself silly?

I don’t believe you.  So you could stop lying about it, too.

“I’m so busy.”  What a crock. Guess what?  Everyone is “so busy.”  You haven’t seen busy like an unemployed homeless person trying to scrounge up his next meal.  If you watched a single television show this year, then you had time to scrape your ass off the couch and help your business partner plan a fucking regularly timed holiday party.

Seriously.

Oh, but you didn’t, and you sat there and didn’t say anything when you got credit.

What you should have done is laughed.  Just busted out laughing –

“HA HA HA HA HA!!!  Oh, NO, Balthazar – this is entirely Vespasia’s doing!!  She pulled the whole thing together…I didn’t even have time to pick up some gas-station panties-in-a-crack-pipe!!”

And then you’d lead the whole table in a toast – “To Vespasia, whose hard work made this all possible!”  Cheers, drink, prost, etc., and then afterward – in a quiet moment, you pull your co-worker aside and tell her in as heartfelt a manner as you can fake – “Seriously, thank you so much for all this, and I’m sorry about Balthazar.  I didn’t say a thing to him so I guess he figured it was an office party we both had a hand it – you did a great job.  Everyone knows it.”

Balthazar should be limping around in the background, unable to walk straight after the thorough kicking his shins received during his impromptu and untoward celebration of your non-effort.

Next year don’t be such a slug.  They’ll make more crack-pipe-panties, but each year slips away and it would be nice if you joined in the planning or execution of the year end celebrations.

A partner who doesn’t at least help take up these tasks is pretty poorly named, don’t you agree?

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