We had our rugby club dinner and party last night. When the date was chosen, we were unaware that this was also SantaCon. We could have saved a fortune on booze because by the time dinner began, most of the Santas were already merry. We could have also saved a fortune in food because I doubt most of the party goers remembered the delicious meal. Having eaten many British Christmas dinners in my five and a half years in HK, I can conclude with confidence that British holiday desserts, or puddings, are pretty much SB and my childhood nightmares come to life. I despise raisins and candied fruit while he dislikes boozy dessert and most forms of warm fruit.
After dinner our crew headed out for a pub crawl. There were four other women in the party but that was enough that I had dance partners; I hadn't gone dancing in a while and that was my goal. The women were dressed to the nines and looked hot while the men...well, they looked like what you would expect from men who had been drinking for twelve hours while dressed in white felt and red velour suits. Except for the one man dressed as a creepy Christmas tree. I'm somewhat sure that his costume was made for someone much smaller than he was.
At some point in the night, Creepy Tree flirted with a couple of women. One of their boyfriends appeared and tried to kick the tree where his Christmas presents would have been located. Creepy Tree is a lover, not a fighter, so he chose not to acknowledge the troll's drunken and unsporting attempts at branch trimming and walked away. We thought that was the end until about it ten minutes later when the troll suddenly ran over to try to kick our tree again. If I hadn't thought the guy was drunk, I was sure of it at that point because he didn't seem to notice that the tree that he was after was standing in the midst of a forest of large Santas. Two of the Santas were over six and a half feet. And wearing red. How you would fail to notice this while trying to assault their friend is beyond me.
There was a lot of pushing and name calling but nothing more, thankfully. The troll was barely upright and none of his swinging punches actually connected with anyone. His friends ran outside and called the Santas racists, which I am starting to notice is a common way for drunken Chinese men to try to win arguments when they haven't a leg to stand on. "Your friend is a slobbering moron." "That's because you're racist!"
The staff at the bar came over and threw the other people out. We went back to dancing. Then ten minutes later the troll and his posse were back, this time whining about how he lost his ugly baseball hat and demanding that we find it for him. Amazingly a few of the Santas obliged and looked about the floor area for the hat. Then the troll started yelling again and the bar staff once again arrived and escorted him outside. After that, we spent the rest of the night dancing without any more silliness. This dancing queen may have overindulged because I was feeling a rather strong beat pounding in my head when I awoke at an embarrassingly late time. I was never more grateful that the rain caused my lacrosse training to be cancelled. Last time I showed up hung over, I got hit in the head by a ball when I failed to raise my stick and catch it like I was supposed to do.
After dinner our crew headed out for a pub crawl. There were four other women in the party but that was enough that I had dance partners; I hadn't gone dancing in a while and that was my goal. The women were dressed to the nines and looked hot while the men...well, they looked like what you would expect from men who had been drinking for twelve hours while dressed in white felt and red velour suits. Except for the one man dressed as a creepy Christmas tree. I'm somewhat sure that his costume was made for someone much smaller than he was.
At some point in the night, Creepy Tree flirted with a couple of women. One of their boyfriends appeared and tried to kick the tree where his Christmas presents would have been located. Creepy Tree is a lover, not a fighter, so he chose not to acknowledge the troll's drunken and unsporting attempts at branch trimming and walked away. We thought that was the end until about it ten minutes later when the troll suddenly ran over to try to kick our tree again. If I hadn't thought the guy was drunk, I was sure of it at that point because he didn't seem to notice that the tree that he was after was standing in the midst of a forest of large Santas. Two of the Santas were over six and a half feet. And wearing red. How you would fail to notice this while trying to assault their friend is beyond me.
There was a lot of pushing and name calling but nothing more, thankfully. The troll was barely upright and none of his swinging punches actually connected with anyone. His friends ran outside and called the Santas racists, which I am starting to notice is a common way for drunken Chinese men to try to win arguments when they haven't a leg to stand on. "Your friend is a slobbering moron." "That's because you're racist!"
The staff at the bar came over and threw the other people out. We went back to dancing. Then ten minutes later the troll and his posse were back, this time whining about how he lost his ugly baseball hat and demanding that we find it for him. Amazingly a few of the Santas obliged and looked about the floor area for the hat. Then the troll started yelling again and the bar staff once again arrived and escorted him outside. After that, we spent the rest of the night dancing without any more silliness. This dancing queen may have overindulged because I was feeling a rather strong beat pounding in my head when I awoke at an embarrassingly late time. I was never more grateful that the rain caused my lacrosse training to be cancelled. Last time I showed up hung over, I got hit in the head by a ball when I failed to raise my stick and catch it like I was supposed to do.
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