Fast Forward, please…

And let me tell you how this starts: your first glamorous company party. Weeks ahead you get already all excited, dreaming of the fun, the new people you will meet (the little red guy on your shoulder is now probably whispering: ”the new conquest” you will make), the free drinks…

And once the promissing evening arrives, you know you were right to be excited about it. (Maybe a little worried too.) Music is loud; all around you everyone seems to be a natural born party animal; the girls’ outfits flash you tanned skin and the guys in business shirts with loose ties and collars are laughing and smirking at the skimpy skirts; your direct manager, a hot chick in her 30s, is wearing a most revealing décolleté. Tonight certainly looks more like a night out in a club than a company party, right?

But then I’ll tell you how it ends: hangover in the morning, late at work, cursing the first glass of alcohol you had and promising yourself never to touch Bacardi in your life again. The hot chick manager, stern look on her face, taps her watch as you pass her desk on your way to your cubicle at 10.30 in the morning. When you open your Inbox, you stumble upon a face-to-face meeting invitation from her – and guess what: this meeting is not related to how hot she finded you last night.

But overall, you tell yourself, it wasn’t so bad, was it? You had a great time with that red-haired, awesome looking chick; or with the guy from the Logistics department, who didn’t seem that interesting to you until just last night. And remember Tony, how he got all pumped up when Katy Perry’s “Hot N Cold” starting playing, and how he got on the table and danced, and we all laughed our asses off? Yeah, how crazy was that? It was fun, afterall, wasn’t it? So what if now there are rumors that your real job is being a zonker? You know they are not true; your friends from work know it. Don’t they?

Right! Just wait until you see the pictures - what fails our memory is clearly depicted in those jpeg files on the company’s SharePoint. For everyone to see, of course. And to remember forever after. That is one thing which cannot be deleted once it has reached the audience.