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We were the few that stayed for a while inside the venue of this year’s Christmas party. It was still past 3 in the afternoon but a lot of the attendees had gone home, perhaps others had retreated to their chosen venues to continue the revelry with their close friends.
The gym’s janitor had started sweeping the cemented floor and bleachers, picking up garbage bags and rubbish that were strewn about. At the far corner of the gym, the caterer was fixing up while, we, at the other side of the gym, the four of us, sat side-by- side together in the bleacher.
The plastic cup of Danny was slowly emptied of rum, and while I, Val, and William, just waited in case another interesting topic would come about. Paused, sipped and sighed and it seemed everyone had had enough of the day, talked a bit and decided when nothing more left to say to get the conversations going, time to pack up. Then, one last gulp, tapped on shoulders, and proceeded to the gate toward the murky ground of the park outside the gym.
Five hours ago the City High gym, a reminiscent of the Acoje gym over three centuries ago, was filled with sounds of gongs and laughter, and echoes of children running around, patched with colorful tee-shirts and marked with school batch, smell of tasty meats and home-made cakes, now ghost-like. Everyone was thinking differently after. The gym, turned icy cold like the weather outside, foggy, wet after a rain the day before, stood like worn-out host.
And a Christmas party had just ended. Not much fun for middle age man like me, simple show like getting-to-know-you, missing-you and brief greeting like hi’s and hello’s, yet a simple celebration to remember by for days to come. And hopefully, until next year, when different faces would come, expecting to meet, to hug and kiss.
