The One Where I Make Like a Shepherd and Get the Flock Out

Have you ever been stone cold busted trying to sneak out of a social gathering?

It happened to me this very weekend at the annual choir Christmas party.

The P-dog and I had had enough of the festivities and were making a stealthy exit when I realized that I had left my purse down in the basement, where the party was still going strong.

(And by going strong, I mean that a group of tenors and sopranos were playing "Spin the Bottle" while the altos and basses stood around the bar singing the one about the horse.)

Just as I had grabbed my purse and was heading back up the stairs, our choir director pops out of nowhere and commands me not to leave just yet.

Me, (in my coat and mittens, hoisting purse over shoulder): "Oh, no, I'm not leaving, just, you know, Hey, look! A communist!!!"

No sooner was I back upstairs with one foot out the door than a veritable stampede of angry choristers came lurching up after me.

I made one last stab at pretending I was just going out to my car to retrieve something, but it was a no go.

The P-dog and I shamefacedly went back down, where it came to pass that everyone was waiting to present me with the prize for "Most Unique Communal Christmas Tree Ornament and Supporting Presentation."

(It was a pair of binoculars, in case you're interested. The ornament, I mean. The prize was a pillar candle with pedestal and decorative rocks.)

Talk about embarrassing.

It's not that I don't enjoy the annual choir Christmas party. I usually hem and haw for a good couple days before it takes place, but then end up swinging from the chandeliers yodeling having a good time after a tumbler of eggnog and maybe a shot or two of Lithuanian honey liqueur.

My big beef with the Christmas party and most choir-related social events comes down to the fact that my fellow choristers do not consider it a party unless organized activities abound, and sometimes I'm just not in the mood for Lithuanian charades, Lithuanian bingo, or Name That Lithuanian Folk Song.

At last year's party, I was pitted against two sopranos in a Play-Doh sculpting contest. The assignment was to sculpt a falcon in one minute or less (I'm not going to go into too much detail about the rules, because I'm assuming you all are familiar with the falcon sculpting game?).

The contestant whose creation most closely resembled an actual falcon was to be named victor. Now, I can usually sculpt a pretty mean falcon, but in all the excitement, I momentarily got my birds of prey mixed up and ended up with a rather sinister looking vulture instead of its much nobler cousin.


Vulture


Falcon

(Kind of like mistaking a turkey for the glorious bald eagle here stateside.)

I did not take home any door prizes that evening.

I wasn't expecting any accolades for the binoculars, either, but I'm guessing the judges were blown away by my accompanying PowerPoint presentation, complete with seizure-inducing special animation effects.

Ha! I didn't really do a PowerPoint, but I did just give myself an idea for next year.