June 16, 2009
As you may remember, my sister is in India for the summer. In Gurgaon, to be precise, Delhi’s business suburb, where she is interning at a law firm.
Last week, she went to her first “office drinks”. It was hosted by the big boss at his house.
She called me the next day.
“How was the party?” I asked.
“Lovely. We had to introduce ourselves in front of everyone, which was pretty embarrassing. One girl said “I am so happy to be working at the best law firm in the world”, and the next one said ‘I don’t agree, this is not the best firm in the world, it is the best firm in the universe!’. Sweet, no?”
“I know. But it was a nice party, really. Except that the two guys who gave me a lift back were drunk.”
Sadly, I said, everyone drank and drove in India. It was surprising there weren’t more accidents.
“Well, we did hit a guy.”
“I told you: the idiot driving was completely smashed. We hit a guy who then chased us. He wasn’t hurt or anything, but come on!”
“Oh my god.”
“And then this asshole vomited.”
“Thank God he got out before. Pretty gross.”
“But Morgane, I mean, what the hell? It was an office party! Who were these guys?”
“What do you mean, who were they? Lawyers, what else?”
“But how can they get drunk at their own boss’ house? For God’s sake, it wasn’t a rave!”
“That’s what I asked them. They said when alcohol is free, it gets out of control.”
“How old are they? 14?”
“I know. Mind you, I should have seen it coming. I was in the kitchen chatting with someone, when one of them came and asked what I was drinking. “White wine”, I said, and he asked me to pour some in his whisky”.
“Of course I didn’t.”