I decided this year that I wanted to go to as many Christmas parties as possible, and Friday’s Google Corporate Christmas Party was the first. Dooth, who was the person taking me, sent me a chat earlier in the day that there were rumors going around the offices that Jay-Z was going to be at the party. He was not. Which kind of sucks, because if Google can pay 1.65 billion dollars for YouTube, surely they can shell out a couple hundred thousand to ENTERTAIN ME. Except, truth be told, I was pretty entertained. Not in a Jay-Z way, since he did not show up, but in a “I’ve never seen this many rich white nerds dancing poorly to nostalgiac hip hop with their asian girlfriends in my life” way. The vibe was very “My Second Best Friend’s Wedding,” except instead of a celebration of love to hold things together there was just top shelf booze and plates of filet mignon that you had to eat standing up.
Besides the endless stream of Ask Jeeves jokes that were made, that’s really all there is to say about that, except for this one exchange at the end of the night. There were bars at every point on the compass at this party, on both the first and second floors of Gustavino’s, where the party was held. I ordered my single malt scotch at one bar, but they had run out of glasses and the bartender handed me my drink in a wine glass. But I’m not gay, so I went to another bar and held up my drink and said to the bartender, “I just ordered a Macallan over there,” and at this I motioned with the obviously unacceptable glass. “Do you have anything better?” The bartender shook his head. “Sorry, that’s the best we’ve got.” I started to walk away, but then I turned back. “No,” I said, “I meant the glass.” He apologized again and said that he didn’t have any tumblers left. But here’s the thing: who is such a dick that they go up to a bartender with a 12-year-old single malt scotch that they didn’t have to pay for and says “You cannot seriously expect me to drink this! Surely you must have something better!” Google employees, I guess. Rich fucks.