Don't Laugh

Today was the retirement party for one of my coworkers. It was held at The Castaway in the hills above Burbank. The view is of the San Fernando Valley. Some of my coworkers are pictured here. There were over 80 people at the party and only three were not Filipino. I didn't feel out of place, though. I've always been welcomed and included.

There was music, ballroom dancing and of course food. No pancit was served.

At one point I visited the ladies room and almost got in trouble. When I wanted to return to the party, I got turned around and walked through an open door. Inside, there was a wall lined with urinals. Thank God there was no one in there. With the door open you can't read that it was the men's room.

There were some speeches and one person didn't quite get the name of our hospital right. Because we are in Panorama City, we say that we work at PC. The speaker pronounced it feces. No one laughed and I was just about dying, trying to keep a straight face.

There were also some singers. One singer did quite well at first singing a Celine Dion song. But the song quickly exceeded her vocal capacities. What she lacked in skill, she made up for in volume. At one point an employee rushed to the door to close it. I was managing okay until then and nearly broke out in hysterical laughter. Regaining self-control just in time for another singer, I nearly lost it again. It was the same problem again. Had she chosen a less ambitious song, she would have done fine, but the song again was an octave higher than she could manage. I don't know why bad singing gives me giggling fits, but I've had that problem since I was a kid. Just knowing that laughing would be the worst thing that I could do is enough to make me laugh. Thank God I managed not to.