It’s a holiday party at my house. My buddy, Pete, says you’re a good dude whose entire family is back East. No need to worry about being alone during the most joyous time of year because any friend of Pete’s is a friend of mine. Get to know us and our families, most of us went to high school together. We’re a weird but welcoming bunch. You say you moved to SF last year after graduating from Virginia Tech? Since you’re coming from the city, you’re welcome to crash in our guest room. Why risk the DUI or accident? Bring a little something to share and wear a stupid sweater then partake in the board games, the drinking, gorging and merriment. But when you wake up in the morning, throw your barf bag in the outside trash, make the bed and close the door all the way when you sneak out. I don’t mind you leaving early without saying “bye,’’ afraid of what potentially embarrassing thing you may have done in front of a group of essentially strangers while under the influence, but at least flush the toilet in the guest bath. Pete’s my boy from back in the day, and I love the guy. But because of you, Pete’s on my naughty list.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to iS*****@*******ws.com, or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.
