magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

Jack Morton Worldwide, our parent company, produced the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. We had nothing to do with it, all the design was done in London, or somewhere, but there were people in the JMW New York office (the 'other side' and 'upstairs' of our office) that were involved in the production, and there was a party at the ESPN SportsZone bar in Times Square with free food and an open bar to celebrate and watch the broadcast.

Not one to turn down an open bar, of course I went. The buffet was all Greek food, which included hummous and pita bread, so there was actually something I could eat. And given the four or five free beers (after the one martini that I had paid for earlier in the night), food was probably a good thing.

I thought the ceremony itself was pretty cool, although two-thirds of it is simply the parade of delegates which does get a little tedious after a while.

Afterward, and somehow this shouldn't come as a big surprise if you've followed my other post work-party exploits, I ended up at another bar with a bunch of Jack Morton people, chief among them, Ellen, who I've only ever hung out with when we've both been very drunk.

She had to catch a 3am train to Boston, for some sort of family function, and wanted to be drunk enough that she'd sleep on the train. We had a couple more beers at some lousy new bar, and then I, having nothing else going on, told her that I'd accompany her home to pack, to help her remember things like her cell phone charger. She had the cab driver stop so that she could buy a pack of cigarettes and she bought me Swedish Fish.

As an aside, I'm reminded at this point in the story that during the party Jen.D, who had quit smoking a few weeks ago when she moved to New York and started at PDG, went out and bought a pack of cigarettes as well. When she left the party, to meet her roommate somewhere, I had briefly thought about asking to bum one mostly as an excuse to walk her out, but didn't. And I sort of felt as if I was missing out on something there.

I did smoke a cigarette (and drink a glass of wine) with Ellen at her apartment as she packed.

And then another cab to Penn Station. 'Will you come with me, just in case I miss the train?' she asked. I don't know what good I would have done had she missed the train, but I had come this far, and my life wasn't going to get any more exciting by going home.

At the station she had a hard time getting the ticket machine to give her her pre-paid ticket. When it did eventually work, and said it was 'printing two tickets' she asked if I wanted to go to Boston with her. She had asked earlier, but I had said that while it was one thing to be spontaneous, I wasn't really sure that I could afford it, and didn't have a change of clothes. 'I still don't have a change of clothes,' I said.

'It doesn't matter. It's just my mom and my sister.' But, as it turns out the 'two' tickets were the there and back of the round trip. Still though, in something of a drunken moment of generosity, she offered to buy another ticket for me to come along.

'Why not,' I said. 'It's not as if I have any terribly important weekend plans.' The machine was still being difficult though, and she couldn't convince it to spit out another ticket. Or maybe something in her sobered up enough to think better of the whole idea of dragging along someone you've only ever hung out with while drunk to a family function for the weekend.

And, walking to the subway, I have to say that consciously, subconsciously, or accident of machine, it was probably for the best that things went the way they did.