‘Tis the season…of drinking and attending holiday parties. Isn’t that how that saying goes? No? Maybe that’s just my mantra. Whatever the saying, the season for holiday parties is here and with it comes the pleasing revelation that court appearances and real estate closings are replaced by a full calendar of party events, a belly full of cookies, wine and Cheez-Its (nothing says “Happy Holidays” to me like processed cheese and carbs).
Somehow, my husband and I always get invited to holiday parties. I like to think it’s because we’re fun to be around, but I secretly think it’s because everyone knows I will inadvertently provide entertainment by spilling something, falling down, or saying something stupid (or a combination of all three, which my husband calls my holiday trifecta). Included on this year’s list of parties was one for my husband’s place of work. I am a lawyer but my husband is not. Some would think this demonstrates he took a smarter career path than me (and racked up far less student loans). This is my husband’s first year on this job, so, I wasn’t sure how the holiday party would be handled. I have extensive experience with holiday parties with law firms, however, so I applied those expectations to his work party and patiently awaited the arrival of the fancy invitation. When no invitation came, I asked my husband if our fancy invitation with raised letters and calligraphy got lost in the mail. (Calligraphy makes anything classy, doesn’t it?) He looked at me dumfounded and said there was no invitation coming via the United States Postal Service. The invitation was an email advising people of the date and time. What?! No fancy invitation with an RSVP request where I can choose chicken or beef (or both)? Obviously, his employer didn’t know how to do it right.
I asked my husband what the attire was for the Christmas party (which is akin to asking a three-year-old who he thinks will win the GOP nomination). My husband had no idea, and since he obviously was confused about the invitation situation, I let it go. I attend several holiday parties each year through my firm, but figured none of the new outfits purchased for those events could be used again. (After all, I had people to impress.) I decided to spring for one more new outfit, as it was his first party with his employer and I wanted to make a good impression. I found a great dress and did my hair in a fancy way (which basically means I washed it). We arrived at the party and I felt quite sassy in my party dress and heels. I hoped to hold my own with the trophy wives who would inevitably be there with their toned arms and flat abs. (I already hated them and I hadn’t met them yet.) We opened the door and walked into what appeared to be a gymnasium – clearly the staging area for the party. Looking around, I couldn’t spot the inner door, or the spiral staircase, so I asked my husband where the actual party was located. He gave me that same strange look and told me we had arrived. I looked around again and discovered what I initially assumed were the waiters were his co-workers. They looked comfortable in their khaki pants and sensible shoes. Didn’t they know this was a holiday party where you try to one-up each other with your outfits and shoes? It’s like these people had no idea what the season was all about.
I looked for the bar and figured it must be in another room. I asked a nice looking woman which way to the nearest bar (obviously, there would be more than one). She advised that there was no bar but there were sodas in an ice bucket. No alcohol?! How did these people get through a holiday party without alcohol? Isn’t that why alcohol was invented: to numb the pain of the holidays? It was then that it hit me. Lawyers simply do things differently. From the way we handle our speeding tickets (and by “handle” I mean “plea bargaining” them so we don’t pay them) to the way we have holiday parties, lawyers just seem to be in a league of our own. Of course, whether that league is good or bad isn’t an analysis I’d like to do. (Mostly because I don’t want to use the CRAC formula.) Still, even though we do things a little differently, maybe the best part about being a lawyer is we have the ability to see each side of an argument, which allows us to take any situation and make the best of it. I had this epiphany after slamming my second diet cola, and I decided to embrace this room of khaki wearers. I removed my earrings and heels. After the feeling returned to my feet, I walked around and began chatting with a woman who turned out to be quite pleasant. I ended up having a very nice time, despite the lack of alcohol and crab cakes. I learned that, although I love holiday parties with my fellow attorneys, other holiday parties can be fun as well. Who would have thought?
©2011Under Analysis, LLC. Under Analysis is a nationally syndicated column of The Levison Group. Lisa Henderson-Newlin is a member of the law firm McAnany Van Cleave and Phillips. Contact Under Analysis by email at comments@levisongroup.com.