How To Know That You Aren't Welcome

Your occasional friend and coworker, "Larry," walks up to you one day in the office and says, "hey, guy. Need ya' to go with me to this company appreciation dinner, or something, tonight. Got an extra ticket, so I'll wheel by your place about eight and get ya."

At first, you are shocked because "Larry," has never spoken to you in a friendly way. Only abusive tones due to him being your assistant office manager and he really doesn't appreciate where you attended college, Brown University.

"Okay, "Larry," uhhh, thanks. I appreciate that," you say and actually mean it. From that moment on, (10 a.m.), until you leave at five, you are so pumped about going to a company-related to-do that you can hardly contain your glee. You even sing under your voice, "who's headin' to a com-pany din-ner? This guy . . .this guy!" A janitor overhears you in the men's room, but he's the type to just mind his own business. Hey, he wouldn't have cared if you had stripped-down naked and danced a jig while you sang your off-key dittie.

At home, your lovely wife, "Barb," is also excited at you going with "Larry," to this company appreciation dinner, for in your 12 years at the firm, this is the "first time anyone has ever taken a shine to you and included you in the company "inner-circle," and secretly, "Barb," has lusted for "Larry," for years due to his athletic, quarterback physique that he kept all of the years since he graduated from Yale.

Sometimes you suspect that "Barb," likes "Larry," for during conversation at dinner and you mention his name, her eyes light-up so much that motorists on a foggy night can just follow her eyes to safety. But you are not a troublemaker. And keep quiet.

On the way to this company gig, you and "Larry," enjoy a bit of guy talk. Topics such as: how the girl in the research department always dresses so provokatively. "Larry," summizes that she and "Don," the assistant to the company vice-president are having "a thing." You both laugh as you near the civic center where this dinner is being held. "Larry," hands you his silver flask and says, "bottoms up, "Tim," and you don't argue. But you do choke for a moment for "Larry," has filled his flask with Evan Williams whiskey, the "diesel fuel of liquors."

When you and "Larry," who is taking another swig from his flask, walk into the lavish "events room," you are taken-back by the expense and glitter of it all. "my company spends thousands like this on decorations, food and liquor, and never gives me a raise?" you think to yourself and try to mingle.

Looks like you are a "lone wolf," on-your-own. By yourself for "Larry," the whiskey-loving pal, is nowhere to be seen, so you continue to walk around the room trying to look cool, attempting to chat with people who halfway look interested in you, and still, you are growing a tad upset. But all in all, "Larry," was good enough to invite you, and burn his own costly gasoline to drive you to this thing, so you act the "team player," and endure this social hardship.

Three hours pass slowly and methodically. As if you were destined, like a theater actor, to make your debut at this party. But the more and more people, alone or in groups ranging from three to four people, you try to converse with, you get frowns, sighs of aggravation, and body language that says, "who is this jerk?" Now you are feeling low, unwanted and displaced.

Guy, didn't you read the signs three hours ago? Didn't you "sense" that there was this "something" about the atmosphere of this get-together as you walked with "Larry," into the civic center? Or were you so carried-away with being asked to attend, that your judgement was blinded by the excitement of the moment?

Oh, how I wish you had read my, "Signs To Know When You Are Not Welcome," and you would be on your way home by now and enjoying a night with your lovely wife, "Barb," who loves it when you talk about "Larry."

1. People, when you walk up to shake hands with them, all turn their backs on you.

2. The servers carrying trays of snacks all pass you by.

3. You can't help but notice that people are gathering in groups, whispering about you and pointing at you as you walk by.

4. Someone with too much to drink, spills his Scotch straight-up on your new suit, on purpose. And grins at his success in humiliating you.

5. Ever so often, various people walk up to you and say, "the exit is that way." Funny, you do not recall asking where the exit was.

6. Someone throws a salami sandwich at you and almost takes your head off. People witnessing this almost hit the floor from laughing so hard.

7. Your boss sees you, walks up you with a smile, and says, "George, it is so great of you to come," and you smile. Then carefully correct him, "but sir, I am "Tim," in accounting," he looks confused. "Tim? There isn't a "Tim" in accounting, and I have a photographic memory. Now who are you, buddy?" he demands as you fumble for words to smooth-over your obvious mistake in coming to this party.

8. Then you feel better when a server with a tray of liquors, walks up to you and says, "your drink need refreshing?" You grin and realize you are accepted. "Yes, it does. Thanks," you say. "the liquor table is over there," the cold-hearted server snaps and walks away from you.

9. "Tim! Hey, "Tim," a voice yells. You almost drop your now-bland drink. A man that you recognize, runs up to you, shakes your hand and says, "you are that dog trainer that the company hired to entertain us later, right?"

10. You try to find "Larry," to get him to take you home, and when you do, he looks at you with an angry look and spews, "just who are you? Can't you see that I am busy with this young lady? Now find someone else to bother!" Now you know for sure that it is definitely time to go home.

11. "where's the nearest phone?" you ask a fashionable-looking woman sipping champagne. She smiles. You feel a spark of hope that someone really knows you. "at the Chevron station about six blocks from here," she replies, snaps her head back and gracefully walks back to the party.

12. If you weren't feeling bad enough, one of the higher-up's tempermental wife, who has brought her purebred poodle, "Peaches," growls at you and bites you on the shin--and you a good thirty yards from her. The poodle's owner proceeds to storm at you, "you either leave, or I am calling security." "But ma'am, I work for this company," you struggle to explain. "no janitor at my husband's company dresses in a suit that cheap," she snaps and now you are cut to the bone

13. You are now "throwing in the towel." You are beaten. Oh, you give it a good try, but something happened. You wore out your welcome that you never even had. You slowly walk to the door and with no ride home, you choose to just walk back home. "police! Police! A thief is getting away," some man yells as you get to the door. The next thing you know you are riding in the back seat of a police cruiser.

But hey, at least the two officers, "Bob," and "Thad," know your name.