THE GREATEST OLDIES OF ALL TIME ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- revenge of the safety committee This weekend I have a double-header wedding to attend in North Dakota, where I went to school for the most self-indulgent years of my adult life. I had the sweetest setup ever: I had lucked into an enormous, slightly dishevelled three bedroom apartment that was like a shrine to the seventies; my job, my classes and my favourite bars were all within walking distance; and I was best friends with my boss. His office was across the hall from the store in which I clerked, and whenever the dude in the Des Lacs jacket upon whom I had a giant crush would arrive to buy his Little Debbie snacks, my boss would call me on the phone and make remarks calculated to start me giggling nervously. We also spent a great deal of time winning free lunches at the Ground Round from the local radio station, by correctly identifying popular songs played backward. That same bar and grill had a Tuesday �Tea� night, offering an array of Long Island Iced Tea alternatives, such as grape, melon, Hawaiian, etc., for only $1.90. A quartet of us from work so frequently took advantage of that special that we started referring to ourselves as the �safety committee�, in order to be able to avoid the disapproving frowns of the less-rambunctious members of our workplace. We got right into the spirit of it; I drew up agendas and took minutes, and my boss made bracelets and nametags for us to wear, with safety themes such as Lyme Disease. We all had code names: mine was 'Danger', my boss chose 'Hot Oil, Loose Rock', another employee was 'Slippery When Wet', and the other main committee member, also of Hot Oil�s white collar caste, went by 'Flammable'. Flammable is getting married this Friday night, to a man she met after I graduated and moved away. On Saturday it will be my friend Nat�s turn to marry man I've never met. I became acquainted with her in the vicinity of the coin-op pool tables; my roommate recruited her for the barroom league team she captained, and eventually Nat and I became carousing buddies. She often got off work an hour and a half before the bar closed, so she would get changed in the bathroom a couple of minutes before the graveyard-shift guy was due to arrive, and then off we would scamper to slurk back draft beer as fast as we possibly could. The last time I saw any of these people was three years ago, when Nat hitched a ride with Hot Oil, who was coming here to attend the wedding of another girl with whom we used to work. We all had a marvellous time. I�ve been trying to prepare NotSoSecretBoyfriend for how madcap things are likely to become, since he�s never met any of these people before. I have to admit, I�m not especially looking forward to having to engage in small-talk at the weddings with all the people I used to see for one-minute increments on a daily basis, at the store. I�m afraid I�m hoping to clique out with the abridged Safety Committee; I don�t get to spend enough time with them to feel inclined to share. 8:01 p.m. - 2006-05-29 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- NOW PLAYING.......&&&&&&&&&&&& andsometimeswhy75 &&&&&&&&........... | |||
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