Party of your Peers Pressure

Work parties feel like work.

I am a morning person, an introvert, and I do not drink.  When coworkers talk about going out after their shifts, I check out of those conversations.  I have been up, polite, and moderately sociable for eight hours.  (More if we include the social dynamics of commuting.)  Three more hours of that takes effort.  The environment does not help.

If you are attending a sports game, I want you to have a large crowd.  Every point scored should elicit cheers and cacophonous responses.  Comedians should be rewarded with uproarious laughter.  However, I struggle to have meaningful conversations when people are raising their voices to be heard.  This while constantly gauging your stance to make sure the servers can get around you and you are not blocking your cohorts’ access to munchies.

Allow me to compare that to smaller, quieter interactions that I had this week.  When a person suddenly vacated the position that they had started recently, I decided to check in on their supervisor.  To give them condolences that they had to cover the responsibilities of two jobs for a time.  To let them vent a touch.  To remind them that inconveniences do not last forever.  And that our coworkers want our supervisors to succeed.

Or the person I know, who, in the last week, has seen their parent show signs of dementia.  Their own child is taken under observation by the state after attempting suicide.  How they feel alcohol pulling at them as a way to check out of life’s difficulties.

Now try to have those conversations in a crowded bar.  If you can, that is fantastic.  You have my admiration.  I cannot.

The most notable one-on-one I had this week was with my boss.  A gal that I have worked with for half my life.  Who had been with the company for a quarter of a century.  Without trying (too hard), it happened that I was around as she was leaving work.  I helped her load her car, dropped her stuff off at her hotel, and walked with her to the bar.  The party was in her honor.  When we entered the bar, we (she, really) were met with a great response. 

A hundred voices called out her name.  The crowd joyfully and enthusiastically greeted her as nearby tables raised their eyebrows and smiled at as with amusement on their faces.  Picture any Norm entry scene from Cheers, times ten.  And with less alcoholics.  I was merely the guy walking her in and I received an ego boost from the response.  That is the show of appreciation that I wanted for my boss.  I liked that people made the effort to show their love for her. 

I had some perfectly nice interactions.  Talking to people as they waited for food.  Standing awkwardly by what appeared to be empty seats even though there was a beer taking up valuable real estate.  Typical workplace chatter.  (Which, again, is what we had spent the whole day dealing with.  Why talk about work after work?)

Then there was the chat that will stick with me.  One of my supervisors has made some unpopular changes.  One of my coworkers was particularly upset by those changes.  I disagreed with the changes, but I chalked it up to business.  The coworker, a cohort of ours, and I were in a triangle formation, talking.  The supervisor came up and made it a square.  In less time than it takes to tell, he stepped in front of me, focusing his attention on my disgruntled coworker. 

If it was intentional, it was a deft maneuver.  They teach this sort of move in sports.  You take on two opponents, freeing up the other guy.  Only I had not asked to be freed up.  At no point had I announced, “You know what I could really use tonight?  An up-close view of a boss’s head.  Just the back of it.  I’d like to be able to see where every single strand is anchored to his scalp.”  Like an overzealous fan trying to get an autograph, my supervisor bodyguarded me out of the scene.  Effectively dismissed, I relocated myself to the food table.

If it was unintentional, then that gives me pause as well.  I have to stop and think if I have done the same to others.  If my zeal to engage with one person has pushed another aside.  I think, over forty-some years of interactions, that I have probably done the same.   

Such actions are proof that I am not wired for large work hang outs.  I do not like being politicked.  I am much better at interacting with groups of one to five.  I lasted less than an hour.  The fifteen minutes that I had with my boss on the way there- that was the meaningful part of the night.  When we reminisced.  When I made her laugh and vice versa.  That was our good bye.  The hug and “I love you” an hour later were a mere formality.

My boss seemed to be having fun.  She had plenty of drinks, a giant card, and a crowd gathered to show their love and affection.  It was a proper sendoff.  I believe that entry moment, that burst of warmth as they all cheered her at once, will stick with her for a long time. 

Work parties will never be my idea of fun.  But it is not all about me.  (At least, not always.)  Sometimes you put your preferences aside to celebrate another.  You inconvenience yourself a tad so that the one you care about feels appreciated and popular.  For one night, you take the hit.  You get glimpses of how your coworkers treat each other.  You try to brush off the bad and celebrate the good.  Then you rest up for the next day of work.