Three years ago, Husband (who was then just my fiance) came with me to the first of our holiday Christmas parties together. We went to the Aloha Steakhouse in Ventura, a pretty nice spot just stone's throw from the pier and next door to the hotel where they filmed the final pageant in Little Miss Sunshine. While we were there, a drunk former co-worker got a little mouthy about what Husband and I would be doing for a honeymoon which led to Husband coming thisclose to asking said co-worker to take it outside. Good times.
This year, the company dinner was at the same restaurant. The spot is pretty well-known for having a problem with vagrants hanging around, causing trouble and panhandling. On the way into the restaurant, we skipped the stroll we wanted to take because there were people asking me for money. During dinner, we could hear a dog barking and a group of young ruffians in a kerfuffle. Husband sort of stood up like he was going to go and break things up but I stopped him. At about the same time, one of them got knocked the fuck out and hit the concrete like a ton of bricks. When the attackers fled the scene, Husband and a couple other people in our group went outside to tend to the unconscious young man on the ground.
I should probably mention that Husband was a Navy medic so he really can't help himself. It would go against everything he stands for if he didn't help out. Well help he did and he ended up getting repaid by getting that dude's piss on him. I guess when you're k.o.'d you lose control of the ol' bladder. The police and the ambulance came and Husband's job there was done so he came in and we enjoyed the rest of our party.
On the way out of the restaurant, we were detoured because of a homeless woman sleeping in the doorway to the parking garage. I thought it would be tacky if I climbed over her. When we went the long way around, we got to go through Hobo Junction once again. A clearly inebriated old beggar asked me for a quarter but I declined. Then he figured he had nothing left to lose so he asked for a dollar. No, thank you. So I got the gift of being called a "fucking bitch" and Husband had to use all his willpower not to punch that dude in the face. All in all, a very festive holiday dinner that really drove home the spirit of Christmas. Amen.