Did I ever tell you about the time I became a dancer, even if just for a fleeting moment, channeling my inner Chip N Dale? No? Well, buckle up, because this is the story of how I, Carlos, became a temporary “Chip N Dale Dancer” at a corporate holiday party.
Back in 2000, in the post-Y2K era, I was working at Metropolitan Travel. It was there I forged some lasting friendships with colleagues like Brian Maxwell and Jeff Merly. Like many companies in the US, Metropolitan Travel hosted an annual Holiday Party – you know, the kind that’s now more broadly termed a “Holiday Party” rather than the old “Christmas Party.” This particular year, the party committee managed to book the prestigious The Edgewater in Seattle.
To encourage responsible fun and minimize any drinking-and-driving incidents, the company wisely suggested employees book rooms for the night. Given our travel industry perks, this was a smart and fun move. However, I was also aware of the cautionary tales of company parties gone wrong – employees getting overly intoxicated, making regrettable decisions, and becoming the office joke for years to come. Before any company event, I always give myself a silent pep talk: “Don’t be that guy.”
My roommate Brian and I got ready in our hotel room, had a couple of pre-party drinks, and then headed down to join the festivities.
From Colleague to Chip N Dale Dancer: An Unforgettable Party
Upon arrival, it was the quintessential corporate holiday party. A cocktail reception, dinner, music, dancing, and eventually some entertainment – the usual party progression. Standard, run-of-the-mill, garden-variety corporate fun. But it was the ending that was anything but typical.
The night culminated in tears – tears of laughter from the onlookers and, well, a bit of pain for me.
The emcee and DJ lowered the music volume to allow the executives to deliver their annual speeches about company progress and achievements. Afterward, they called for male volunteers to come to the dance floor. By this point, most attendees were well into their drinks, if not already quite tipsy. Three guys willingly stepped forward. It was my first year at Metropolitan Travel, so I initially hung back – I was still getting to know everyone.
Then, it happened. My female manager “volunteered” me! I was essentially pushed out of the crowd and onto the dance floor, much against my initial plan. I sighed inwardly. There was no turning back now.
The DJ started playing songs, and the emcee provided some basic dance instructions. Three songs played, and the four of us performed our best interpretations of the suggested moves. Then, the music changed to “Macho Man” by the Village People, and the emcee shouted, “DANCE LIKE CHIP N DALE DANCERS!”
Well, I’m not one to do anything halfway, especially with an audience! So, I took a deep breath, dramatically pulled off my shirt, and threw it into the crowd.
One of the company’s three owners, Marta, darted across the dance floor, grabbed the front of my pants and belt, pulled to create some space, and then proceeded to stuff five one-dollar bills into my underwear.
What just happened?!
Without missing a beat, I kept dancing to “Macho Man” because, in that moment, I was embodying Chip N Dale Dancer: Carlos. Thankfully, the song ended, and so did the impromptu performance.
Afterward, I casually wandered over to where I had seen my shirt land. Of course, Marta was holding it. As a reminder, she was one of the three owners of Met Travel, along with her friend, Jeff, and her ex-husband, Willie. She smiled as she reluctantly handed back my shirt, saying, “Nice job, Carlos. Hope the tip was enough.”
I hadn’t even checked my impromptu earnings yet. I was just grateful she didn’t ask for an encore.
The Morning After: Reflecting on My Dancing Debut
Later that morning, back in our room, Brian caught up with me. I had ventured out into the Seattle nightlife after the party. Brian teased, “So, are you considering a career change to male dancing or stripping?”
I laughed and replied, “No, Brian. That was a one-night-only show for Chip N Dale Dancer: Carlos.”
Be good like you should, and if you can’t be good … be good at what you do!
‘los; out
