Weird, wild, wacky Christmas party (UK edition)

Wow. I don't even know where to start this post.

Last night was DH's team's Christmas Party. It all sounded normal enough (normal to my American sensibilities, anyway). We were going to a local hotel for a meal, and meeting up for a little pre-party at a nearby couple's house for a little wine and cheese.

Indeed it started pretty much how these things go... we went to the couple's house, which was very nice, and enjoyed some pre-party drinks, were introduced to spouses and made some small talk, and it was all very expected.

I guess the first sign that things were going to be a little different should have been DH telling me that the dress code was either "smart casual" or "70s disco" style. These two things don't make much sense, but I just kind of let it go. When we arrived at the hotel for our pre-dinner drinks at the hotel bar, I looked around at the assembled crowd. Our group was only about 20 people; there were perhaps a hundred or so in the lobby area. People were wearing the widest variety of clothes I had ever seen assembled in one place in my life. There was a very large group of people dressed in black tie formal attire (with more women than I have ever seen in my life squeezing into dresses that had they bothered to check a mirror, they would have known their dress was four sizes too small) Oh - there was a complete lack of appropriate foundation garments as well - there were flat droopy boobs, poochy tummys, and spare tires in abundance. There were the "smart casual" folks, with the boys in nice pants and nice shirts and the occasional tie and blazer and women in nice sweaters or shirts and skirts or casual dresses..

And then there were the folks in the 70s garb. Just. wow. Bell bottoms and paisley galore (including some sequined bell bottom paisley, which was nothing short of insane). These people were dead serious about their 70s style costumes. Standing there in the lobby I bitterly cursed DH for not having a) told me to bring our camera and b) forgetting his iPhone in the car, which takes much better pictures than my crappy cell phone camera.

After a short while in the bar we were led by someone from the hotel staff up to the restaurant and to our reserved tables. The tables were decorated in a way I expected much more for a New Year's Celebration than a Christmas party - with little champagne poppers, noisemakers, strange popping package-type things that went "bang" when you pulled them apart, and really annoying balloon-type things that you blew up and let go, at which point they sailed around the room making that horrible deflating balloon squeal. They looked like giant flying penises and there were dozens of them flying around the room. Inside the little "bang" packages there were tissue paper crowns, which people all around the room were wearing on their heads.

I kind of stood there in shock for a few minutes, trying to understand exactly what this scene in front of me was. Eventually we settled down, had a fairly standard quality hotel-catered meal, and I just kind of was looking around at this surreal scene of grown adults at their companies' Christmas parties, wearing tissue paper hats and shooting champagne poppers at one another and setting off balloons around the room. It was like a strange LSD trip.

And it was only the beginning of the strangeness.

After dinner, once everyone had had their cake and coffee, the entertainment for the evening started. Now DH had told me that the hotel had a 70s theme club or something, he wasn't quite sure what. We joked that it would be something like an ABBA-fest (me) or a BeeGees-fest (him). This of course explained why some of the people in attendance were dressed in 70s garb.

At the front of the room there was a small dance floor with some lights and whatnot set up. The room's lights were dimmed quite low and some peppy instrumental music I didn't recognize at first started playing. I was in no way prepared for what appeared next. Indeed, I'm not quite sure I believe it actually happened yet.

At one point I recognized the musical refrain, at about the same time as DH did. I turned to him and said "Is that... Waterloo?" At that exact moment, the dance floor's lights came on, and there was a group of four - two men and two women - that were clearly an ABBA tribute band. And they started singing "Waterloo."

The room went crazy, "Woo-Hoo"ing and screaming, as if it was a room full of teenage girls and the latest boy band had just taken the stage. A woman, dressed in a 1920's style flapper dress (she was with one of the black-tie groups, I think), almost immediately jumped up on the buffet and started dancing (it was the first song! how much had she had to drink already that she was ready to dance on tables?). The ABBA tribute band was singing its heart out, and I was simply looking at my DH in utter and complete shock.

I kind of figured that they would play one or two songs and then a normal dance floor would follow. How wrong I was. I didn't even think ABBA had that many songs, but they played for a solid hour, with their "encore" number being, of course, "Dancing Queen." It was absolutely surreal. There is simply no other word for it.

Once the band finished playing, our group started to disperse - it was 1100pm on a Friday night, after all. I'm still not sure that I've processed everything that happened last night. After all, my Christmas party experience has mostly been a subdued meal with some folks you work with, perhaps a little bit of Christmas music on to get you in the mood, maybe a Secret Santa or White Elephant/Yankee Swap-type game for some wholesome laughs, and then everyone goes on their merry way.

I was not prepared for an New Year's Eve party-type craziness with an ABBA soundtrack. It was, to say the least, bizarre.

And here are just a couple of crappy cell-phone pics:



Hard to see... but up there are the blond and brunette "ABBA"-like chicks singing


Flapper-like chick dancing on the buffet - TO THE FIRST SONG!

I have a pic of DH wearing his paper crown, but to my chagrin he won't let me make it public.