Even though my boss has a desk five feet from me, our backs face each other and he rarely ever turns to see what I’m doing. I noticed this the other day and thought, “I wonder what I can get away with while I’m here…” At that moment, my co-worker Rudy approached me and handed me a beer. Alas, the imaginary lightbulb above my head finally flickered on.
I’m gonna get drunk as shit at work.
You can’t just get drunk at work without informing the higher ups. I mean you can, but that’s just outrageous irresponsibility, and everybody knows that drinking responsibly is friggin’ badASS.
I told my other bosses, Geoff and Rudy, and to my pleasant surprise, both were immediately on board, even going as far as making suggestions on how I should go about sneaking drinks, or the best way to fool Elie. All in all, they were stoked on it.
Of course, nobody wants to read without pictures and videos to go along, so I commissioned my coworker Pete, one of the best photographers around, to join me for this adventure. Pete was the one who chronicled my all-you-can-eat pancake exploit, so I was in good hands.
Lastly, I had to get our intern Hayley to pick me up from my house in the morning and drop me off later, because again, drinking responsibly is literally the coolest thing of all time. She was a great sport, although she regularly expressed her dissatisfaction with not being able to partake in my adventure.
8:58 AM – 1st floor – I arrive to work. Hayley picked me up because I knew I’d be getting drunk today, and I would never get behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated. A boat, maybe. A plane, damn right. But a car? Please. I’m not a daredevil.
9:09 AM – 1st floor – I get a sausage biscuit from Starbucks. I’m not trying to start puking at 11 AM just because I drank on an empty stomach. Oh, and thanks for the $12 sausage biscuit, Starbucks. You Starfucks.
9:33 AM – 1st floor – I put 3 shots worth of Jameson into my coffee, because any coffee with two shots or less is regular coffee. I also don’t want to get too drunk too quickly (this notion goes to shit). So far Elie is none the wiser, and my deliciously evil plan is budding beautifully.
Drinks so far: 3 shots of whiskey
9:54 AM – 1st floor – I’m halfway done with my Irish coffee. I’m already feeling a bit frisky. O’blivious McUnobservant over here still has no idea what’s going on, and he isn’t even a tiny bit drunk. That’s called a “lose-lose” scenario.
10:00 AM – 1st floor – I snap a selfie of Elie’s butt (or lack thereof) and myself. Whether these photos end up for work or for pleasure…well, frankly, that’s none of your business. But between you and me? Pleasure.
10:27 AM – 1st floor – My Irish coffee is really kickin’ in now. I’m definitely not drunk, but I’m teetering on buzzed. I see a Pringles can, and my huge brain and I come up with an idea. It still has chips in it, but the flavor is Serrano Ham aka warm ocean poop. I empty the chips and slip my PBR into the canister, right before Elie shows up. Close call.
11:07 AM – 1st floor – Elie is one of those weirdos with a standing desk, conveniently set up right behind me. It worries me, and my reasoning is twofold: 1) I don’t like him lurking behind me, it makes me feel uncomfortable, and we all know that he’s probably staring at my ass. Perv. Well, I guess we’re even; 2) he can turn around at any time and watch what I’m doing and I would never know. Thankfully I had Pete, the wise Sancho Panza to my moronic Don Quixote, keeping a vigilant eye out for me.
11:19 AM – 1st floor – My Irish coffee is officially finished. Now I’m working on the “PBR in the Pringles can” operation. I am feeling aaaaa-loosey goosey! The can is too short for the Pringles canister, so any beer that exits the can and doesn’t make it into my mouth gets lost in the abyss at the bottom of the canister, collecting that finely ground chip dust, then goes back towards my mouth during the next sip. I am now drinking an Xtra Kickin’ Jalapeño Pabst Blue Ribbon. It makes me ponder on the time my Aunt gently (aggressively) informed me that I’ll likely never be married. Things are beginning to click.
Drinks so far: 3 shots of whiskey, 2 beers
11:22 AM – 2nd floor – I proceed to exhale into my coworker Marc’s breathalyzer in order to figure out how far along I’ve come. I feel like store-bought breathalyzers always tell you you’re more sober than you are, whereas the breathalyzers from the po-po will be a little more generous. That being said, I am surprised and slightly depressed to see I only blew a .053. Tucker Max would be disappointed.
11:29 AM – 1st floor – The way Hayley is wearing her headphones makes me laugh. Does she have an ear where her sideburns are or something? What is she listening to, brain waves? Who does she think she is, DJ Paris Hilton? Friggin’ nerd. She’s cool though. If she and someone that I hated were hanging off of a cliff, I’d save her. Maybs.
11:41 AM – 2nd floor – Somebody in the office is playing the theme to Happy Days. One of the younger interns asks where the song is from. I hold back an unyielding urge to bitch slap that bomboclat. Some old timey dancing is about to go down if this music keeps up. Either the twist or the jitterbug, I’m pretty open to new old things.
12:11 PM – 2nd floor – As I continue drinking, I am forced to keep coming up with cunning ways to consume my alcohol. I finish my Starbucks drink and my Pringles beer, now I’m drinking an entire beer out of a styrofoam to-go box. I only do this so that I can walk by Elie and mock him further when I reveal the truth. The mission is a success. Elie is none the wiser, and I am all the drunker.
12:27 PM – 2nd floor – Marc’s girlfriend, Annie, arrives for lunch. I found some shot glasses to (quietly) take shots with the upstairs people, but I couldn’t pull the cups apart. Annie used her Beowulf-like strength and staunch sense of justice to help me out. Somewhere Batman wipes a tear of proud approval from his righteous cheek. Annie and I joke about fighting, but it’s all in good fun, because she’d wreck myself before I could even check myself.
12:37 PM – 3rd floor – I just took a shot with Rudy, Ethan, Marc and Molly, all while Elie roosts on the 1st floor. They’re fuggin’ troopers and they totally understand the struggle. I mean, who doesn’t actively try to get drunk at work? Losers, squares and Elie, that’s who.
12:51 PM – 1st floor – Hayley said she’s meeting her roommate at 1pm for lunch. I belligerently inquire from across the room, “What, are you gonna BANG your roommate? TOOOIGHT, TOOOIGHT.” Hayley is not amused, my other coworkers are slightly amused but also disturbed, and Elie is still none the wiser. Sean is winning all over the place.
12:53 – 1st floor – Pee pee time! I bravely waddle as quickly as possible to the bathroom, like a man.
1:03 PM – 1st floor – (2 Months Ago): Jamba Juice just dropped off smoothies for the whole office. I take the last two smoothies and put them in the freezer. I have no idea when they’ll come in handy, but I feel as though one day Future Sean will be able to use them for something, and will pay homage to my genius resourcefulness.
1:13 PM – 1st floor – I suddenly remember that Past Sean put two smoothies in the freezer. I rub my hands together in a deliciously evil way, because I’m about to rock the civilized world’s dick off and put vodka in my Jamba Juice. Clever, I know. I look up and nod my head approvingly to Past Sean in order to pay him homage for his genius resourcefulness. Why I looked up as if he were dead and in heaven, no one knows. Unfortunately, the only vodka we have is Jalapeno Vodka. Why is this in existence? I presume Jalapeno Vodka is the source of the world’s troubles: every major war, disease and disaster. It is the devil’s urine.
Drinks so far: 5 shots of whiskey, 2 beers, 2 shots of jalapeno vodka (in the Jamba Juice)
1:36 PM – 2nd floor – I just took another shot of whiskey. I also find a small flask of Fireball Whiskey. I was going to down it, but Marc begged me not to finish it. Legitimately begged. And Marc is cute as fuck, only a barbarian would say no to him.
1:37 PM – 2nd floor – I said no to him.
1:53 PM – 1st floor – I ask Elie if I can write an article about drinking at work. Little does he know that I am already drinking at work. He gives me genuine advice on how to approach the topic. I give him genuine looks of boredom. I don’t have time for his managerial ways. I am thinking about Ferrero Rocher chocolates the whole time and how they shaped my childhood (and my ass). Good luck breaking that train of thought, Mr. Look-At-Me-I’m-Sober-And-Responsible-And-Shit.
2:17 PM – 3rd floor – I take another shot of Jameson upstairs. I express to Ethan (our Finance Manager) my gameplan, then blow in his face to see how much I smell like booze. He approves, and regrets smelling my breath on a cosmic level. Everything is going swimmingly. Rudy demands that I get my drunk ass back to work, so I respond by yelling at everyone else to, “Get back to work!”
2:35 PM – out of office – I’m at C4 Deli with Pete and Evan for lunch. I order a French dip sandwich and a glass of Merlot. I finish the glass of Merlot like I’ve never seen wine before. I quickly order another, and the waitress looks at me like I’m her shitty ex-boyfriend that didn’t treat her how feminist memes depict a woman should be treated. She’s probably right, who knows…either way, I forgive her. She’s hot, and hot people are easy to forgive.
Drink status: 7 shots of whiskey, 2 beers, 2 shots of jalapeno vodka, 1 glass of wine
2:46 PM – out of office – I am drinking my second glass of wine. I have been elected as the new mayor of Struggle City, and I do lots of civil work in the bordering cities of Tipsyborough and Drunkshire. I am clearly running unopposed in the forthcoming election. I also demolish my French Dip sandwich like a rapper “eating booty groceries” or whatever they say, and now Pete is looking at me like I just greatly offended his ancestors.
*3:02 PM – out of office – A hot homeless woman with a zebra backpack asks for a cigarette. I tell her to pick three categories, then I will ask her a trivia question using one of those three categories. I choose her category “entertainment”. I ask her who Jay-Z is married to. She can’t answer. I wonder what sort of fuckery this is, because it’s literally the easiest question of all time. I give her the ultimate clue, which is, “She wants you to SAY HER NAME, because she’s a SURVIVOR, and she sticks up for herself and ALL THE SINGLE LADIES.” I even flawlessly perform the choreography to All The Single Ladies and she still doesn’t know. Eventually she says Beyoncé, so I give her a smoke and walk the fuck away in sheer disgust, but also with a feeling akin to reserved paternal pride. I’m proud of you, vagabond.
3:35 PM – 1st floor – I try to walk past Elie, who is studiously working on the couch in the lobby, like the Pink Panther. I believe I succeeded, however the look on his face says, “What is wrong with that guy?”
3:37 PM – 3rd floor – I go upstairs to take another shot. I decide to take a shot at Elie’s desk, because I live life on the edge, and danger turns me on. I laugh at my boss’s remarkable lack of environmental awareness. I also called him a “dummy.” I thought that shit was hysterical. He’s not a dummy, but he sure is making my job easy today.
*4:01 PM – 1st, 2nd and 3rd floor – I spend the next 10 minutes walking around the office discreetly flipping everybody off. I find a never-ending source of happiness from this. I once did this with famous buildings and works of art in Europe. I love being obnoxious, and I’m really good at it.
Final drink status: 10 shots of whiskey, 2 beers, 2 shots of jalapeno vodka, 2 glasses of wine
*4:14 PM – 2nd floor – Hayley comes upstairs solely to laugh at me. I make fun of her for being an unpaid intern, then immediately apologize because she is my ride home. Elie is also a good sport about being the butt of everybody’s jokes ALL. DAY. LONG. He gives Hayley and me a Jack In The Box gift card so that she can feed me on the way home.
6:26 PM – home – I finally arrive home. I am too drunk to continue doing things. Goodbye reading peoples!
*3:02 PM – Pete later informs me that despite my assuredness, the homeless woman was not hot. He’s obviously trying to keep her for himself, so I express gratitude for his guidance, then curse his filthy, whorish name under my breath.
*4:01 PM – I found the pictures of me flipping off European things. You’re welcome, world. Except you, Europe. You kind of asked for it.
*4:14 PM – I can’t remember if she actually fed me or not. Hayley, if you didn’t feed me, you owe me one egg roll and a Double Jack. Friggin’ interns, man.