Friday, May 13, 2011
Happy Happy
Happy hours with coworkers can be a very messy affair. I was reminded of this recently when I overheard what I can only assume was a group of lawyers talking about Jim Crow laws for their lighthearted Friday afternoon affair. Lawyers, frankly, are the worst. You just can't trust people who knock back a few drinks and start babbling about the dormant commerce clause.
Now, I am not one of those people who has a significant problem with shop talk, as a general matter. Frankly, in many cases, I can't imagine what else I would talk about with coworkers who are many decades more senior and many miles more suburban than I. I don't have a lot of insight to offer on which episode of NCIS was the best or how to make the most of your Disney vacation. But I certainly can chip in a comment or two on the judge we're currently before or the volume of our electronic production. I may want to shoot myself in the head the whole time, but at least it's not awkward silence.
There was a time (many employers ago) when I had some office happy hours that were truly scandalous. Well, scandalous in the PG-13 work sense; a little light over the clothes stuff. Now the real shocker is if I can actually stay awake long enough to go watch my coworkers make small talk about their Subarus. Oddly enough, I think I've just outlined a scenario in which everyone is lame.
Happy hours with coworkers can be a very messy affair. I was reminded of this recently when I overheard what I can only assume was a group of lawyers talking about Jim Crow laws for their lighthearted Friday afternoon affair. Lawyers, frankly, are the worst. You just can't trust people who knock back a few drinks and start babbling about the dormant commerce clause.
Now, I am not one of those people who has a significant problem with shop talk, as a general matter. Frankly, in many cases, I can't imagine what else I would talk about with coworkers who are many decades more senior and many miles more suburban than I. I don't have a lot of insight to offer on which episode of NCIS was the best or how to make the most of your Disney vacation. But I certainly can chip in a comment or two on the judge we're currently before or the volume of our electronic production. I may want to shoot myself in the head the whole time, but at least it's not awkward silence.
There was a time (many employers ago) when I had some office happy hours that were truly scandalous. Well, scandalous in the PG-13 work sense; a little light over the clothes stuff. Now the real shocker is if I can actually stay awake long enough to go watch my coworkers make small talk about their Subarus. Oddly enough, I think I've just outlined a scenario in which everyone is lame.
