Monday's lunch

It's been an interesting week. Monday was our team lunch at work. That means the people on my "team" and our supervisor go out about every four months for lunch instead of having our team meeting. This is the meeting on Mondays which I constantly skip, but no way am I skipping lunch. We meet at 1:00 at an all you can eat buffet, Brazilian restaurant on 45th. Waiter asks if we would like drinks. Half the table is hung over, we all put on our best innocent faces and remain silent. My coworker Eulys, a Haitian woman in her late 20's says, "Lets get a bottle of Sangria!" My boss raises an eyebrow. Eulys looks at her, "What? It's just juice!" That line made her the hero of the day, and it was delivered with totally feigned innocence. A couple others pipe up with, "Sure, why not?" My boss shrugs and says okay. She doesn't give a shit. Been having a tough time. Mother died 9 months ago, father died 2 weeks ago, and her sister has some kind of cancer. Work is the absolute least of her concerns. She loves her cocktails like the rest of us. I step up, "Actually we'd want a pitcher, that's with all the fruit and good stuff. Red okay?" Reds fine and I place the order. There is 10 of us there, only one person not drinking. The pitcher equals about 2 each, so we're still in the safe zone. The waiter brings over a bottle of Port on the house. A couple people pass cause they have to see clients, which boggles my mind, you really shouldn't have any alcohol on your breath going to see clients, but whatever. More Port for me! Anyway, this shakes out to about two more drinks a person.
We square up the bill and decide it's time to leave. As we're leaving, I turn to Dara, an Irish FOB (fresh off the boat) who sits across from me in the office and is hilarious. I go, "It's 2:30, 75 degrees out, and we've already had a couple. I need outdoor tables and beer." Without missing a beat, "Rudy's, we are definitely going to Rudy's. You're on recruitment."

Needless to say, I recruit. I get Eulys {prounced Eulys, fuckers}. Charles, an Americanized Hatian who has been born again in the "Times Square Church", which if I'm correct is Rev. Moon's church. Great guy, good looking, and has dreds. Unfortunately, he is completely nuts. Quit drinking, smoking, and having pre-marital sex when he joined the church. Needless to say, he's engaged to be married in June. Needs to get laid. Actually, I was present for their first date. It was at my movie trip for crazies, he'd bring dates or just pick up chicks there. Classic shit but a story for another day. The fifth member to join us was Samir. He is a story into and of himself. Briefly, he's Indian and a club kid. Grew up on St. Marks and plays sitar. Always going up to Woodstock for "music". I got him the job and am constantly terrorizing him. I've made him declare in meetings "I'm not gay!", just to make myself chuckle. He's really going to need his own entry, so let me sum up quickly. "Dude, I was working on the bartender at Red Rock until 5am! I think I'm in." Me, "What was his name?"
We get to Rudy's and start the two pitchers at a time game. I quickly remember why you're not supposed to drink with co-workers. The conversation immediately degenerates to who's fucking who, who's an idiot, and who we all hate the most. Charles admits he hasn't gotten laid in 2 years, BY CHOICE! This causes a long moment of silence. I break it with, "Congrats on that marriage thing. Should solve that problem." Charles responds, "Thanks man. Should we buy that tattooed girl at the other table a drink?" Now I can't resist, "You need some strange before the big day?" He's drinking and bumming smokes off me, "Nah man, just kidding." Rigghhht. Samir makes a call, "I called earlier, wondering if the Lotus Oil came in yet? Oh, it did! I'll be right over!" Before he even hangs up, I'm like "If Lotus Oil isn't a code for drugs or some kind of sexual act, I'm not buying that was a real call." He cops to the fact it's drugs and then questions me how I picked up on it. He thinks I'm the straightest guy in the world due to my work persona, so I remind him, "Burning Man twice, novice. Twice. Have fun." He leaves to cat calls and laughter. I call him Jag on his way out and laugh to myself for 5 minutes.
Dara and I get up to get two more pitchers, he hits the head and I walk out to our table. (Did I mention we were in the back yard there? We were.) I come back and find Eulys telling Charles, "It's like he's trying to put it through my fucking uterus. I love to fuck, but that shit hurts!" Charles is glassy eyed and doing his best to keep a straight face. He looks at me to keep the conversation going, "That's your cervix he's banging against. Don't like that eh?" Now Eulys is not the most sophisticated gal, but she's...earthy? She replies, "I don't know, but it hurts!" Dara returns at this point and wisely remains silent. To keep it going I throw out, "All girls are different, some love that." Charles pipes up, "Yeah, some girls squirt." This prompts a discussion about female ejaculation, which I don't feel like rehashing. Let's just say she closes with, "There must be some muscles that control that, I'm gonna look into that." She leaves on that note, or at least that's all I recall.
It's me, Dara, and Charle at this point. We're all drunk. The tattooed girl is leaving, Charles starts throwing out lines, "Where you going, we meant to buy you drinks." The girl is actually flattered and starts to respond to Charles, "Oh, if I'd know that..." I yell, "Not you, the other girl!" Everyone is horrified, the girl walks out in shame. I giggle hysterically while Dara and Charles just stare at me slack jawed. Before I can even catch my breath, this 70 year old woman comes out to smoke and starts waving at everyone. Everyone waves back and Dara goes, "That's why I love this place, all kinds are welcome." I pause for a second, still giggling and say, "Please forgive me guys, I can't resist. SHOW ME YOUR TITS!" She's demented and doesn't even notice, but half the place loves me, half the place hates me. Same old story. Then a bird shit on me and I called it a night. Cheers Motherfuckers.