Upstairs at the B Club is perfect for a retirement party, I thought, as I stepped to the podium. I waited what probably seemed a long time, but the anticipation from the crowd was so palpable I couldn’t help savoring the moment. “I am not here to roast HF,” I began. “HF would be best braised with aromatics for six to seven hours. Either way there’s just not enough time.” I searched the crowd of about sixty for my boss and my wife and nodded at both. “I want to mention to both my lovely wife and my boss that while I understand your concerns, I do not feel obligated to censure any portion of my presentation – THE TRUTH SHALL BE KNOWN. However, do to the potentially explosive nature of some of my comments I have been advised by counsel to stick to a written script.”
“I would like to summarize the results of research I conducted regarding HF’s career with our Company. I will share some of the more salient observations and comments – some are good, some are not so good. But as I know HF would say – WHO CARES! Here are some of the terms that kept coming up: dedicated, hard working, sense of humor, explosive, will beat the shit out of a problem. I know this one first hand because on more than one occasion I was the problem. HF started and managed the IT Help Desk for many years. I like to say H put the HEL in HELP.”
I shot a few more barbed zingers and sat down to pleased and, from my boss, relieved applause. HF’s current boss spoke briefly and then the party began. My lovely wife J had worked with HF for many years and had been invited. I was making my way to her and HF, drink in one hand, small dish of shrimp and mini quiche in the other. Suddenly L was in front of me; very much in front of me. One might say invading the private space in front of me. She reached up and began fixing my tie all the while bubbling about how she had had no idea what a wonderful speaker I was and so witty and confident. While she gushed I watched my wife over her right shoulder watch us. HF looked to J and to me and back to J. I gave my wife my best Johnny Carson innocent look and she started to laugh.
I let L go on for just a little longer while a crowd formed behind her: my wife, HF and a few friends who could see what was happening and wanted in on the climax. “L,” I asked with my best dead pan look, “have you met my lovely wife, J?”
kongoboken 