Russian Roulette

This Saturday I will be attending my firm's anniversary party. We've hit a big decade year, so it's going to be a big formal, fancy bru-ha-ha. As a result, for the past three days, everyone's been obssessed with figuring out what to wear (formal gown or cocktail dress? is the neckline to risque? are the heels to flashy?), whether to bring a guest, a.k.a. the possible liability or the airbag, and who they're going to sit with. The last of these is giving people ulcers because this year, for some unknown reason, there's going to be assigned seating.

That's right. A whole bunch of adults...lawyers...are going to be forced to socialize with other lawyers they know too well or don't want to know at all. Who thought this was a good idea? and why oh why is it necessary?? The interesting thing is that because there's assigned seating, whether you bring a guest is all the more crucial and even more difficult decision. On the one hand, it'd be nice to have a life vest; on the other, do I really want to subject my friend to being examined under the microscope and asked awkard questions? As a non-married, this is particularly tricky because whoever I bring will forever be remembered as my boyfriend regardless of what I tell people. Plus, there's always the possibility that whoever you bring will be so excited about the prospect of free booze that they may become more uh memorable than you were at the party.

Since the rsvp date was two weeks ago, and I elected to fly solo, the die has been cast. And now, I'm hoping to high heaven that I made the right decision. And that I get seated at a good table.