After Holiday Party II

As you may have read, for the second year in a row my practice decided to throw our holiday bash after the holidays.  It does break up January nicely, and this has been a rather bleak one, namely the weather, which has been overcast and wet nearly every day.  Sometimes chilly, which I like, but minus the horizontal rain, thank you.  Bet the snowbirds are pissed.

We gathered on the patio at Yardhouse, a restaurant/brewery chain known for its wide selection of beers and classic rock pumping overhead.  I've been to this Palm Beach Gardens location a half dozen or so times.  Always good grub, and this night it seemed even better.  Wait staff kept bringing out plates of sliders, spicy chicken wings, fried calamari, sliced blackened ahi sashimi, and jumbo "firecracker" shrimp.  There were several types of pizza and nachos.  Parm truffle fries, mmmmm.  Everything was so good, the kind of good as if you haven't eaten in a week or have a serious case of the munchies after a few hours of weed.  I made several trips to the table, justified in my head as a reward for having such a healthy diet of late.  I have to agree with the wisdom I found in an article I read in, I think, Men's Health years ago.  Something along the lines of if you don't allow yourself a cheat meal once in awhile you'll fail spectacularly and find yourself face down in a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey.

The tunes overhead occasionally embraced pop as well as rock, but one of the monitors continuously played clips of Led Zeppelin and Van Halen.  I was reminded of my many trips to Jersey Mike's, where years earlier you always heard the likes of Thin Lizzy and Blue Oyster Cult but these days you may also hear Jay-Z.  I'm fascinated by such things, particularly at the supermarket.  I recall the dusty aisle wanderings at Winn-Dixie, where in the same visit you'd hear Steely Dan and No Doubt.

All but a few co-workers showed.  To see them out of their usual work scrubs is always amusing.  Free of corporate uniformity.  A few ladies donned previously unseen wigs.  Everyone looked great and mingled liberally, even the ordinarly shy ones.  I'm always conscious of "making the rounds", trying to catch up with everyone, while their game faces are down.  Our new ENT told me about that afternoon's surgery - cochlear implantation.  I told him I had observed one of these about twenty years ago while in grad school.  "It must be quite different now?" I asked.  He shook his head.  Surprising. 

Three of the five ENTs came out, the usual ratio.  One of the absent was attending his daughter's soccer match but he probably would've bowed out anyway.  The other audiologist I work with was also at that game; her daughter plays for the opposing team (they lost 7-0).  She came to the party two hours in.  We saved her a plate.

As usual, we were allotted two free drinks.  I had a pint of Allagash White, one of my faves.  Later I downed a Midnight sangria, a smooth combination of pinot, Remy, and orange liqueur.  Only one of us imbibed too much, but I have so sordid tales to tell.  She slurred and rambled like happy drunks tend to.  She told me later that she stumbled over her own knee boot and hit the asphalt in the parking lot, leading to a sizable bump on her foot.  No, she wasn't driving that night.  

One of the docs reminisced about previous outings.  The ones from twenty, twenty-five plus years ago, before my time with this practice, were apparently quite wild.  He also fondly recalled this one from 2010.  I shared his warm memories.  The Yardhouse party was nowhere nearly as raucous, but still one of the best in recent times.  Cheers to another great year, ever busier.