"You can think about it," he said, before walking back to his cube. "But we'd love to have you join us."
"Okay!" I bleated to his back. "Let me think about it!"
I sat there, stymied (and embarrassed by my noncommittal response, which I thought probably came across as weird at best, and quite possibly rude). I was in a pickle. See, owing to the 4,782 different medications I'm on, I am not supposed to drink alcohol. I began envisioning different scenarios playing out with my co-workers.
- I decline the invitation. This confirms the impression I made with the "I'll think about it" response and they think I'm rude. I will not be getting another invitation.
- I accept the invitation and order a tall frosty glass of lemonade, while everyone else guzzles beer. I am the prim and proper (and disapproving) NON-DRINKER. That's the last time I'm invited to a happy hour.
- I accept the invitation and order an actual alcoholic drink. I get instantly and disgustingly drunk and cause a massive scene. Medics and the police are called to haul me away. I am invited to every happy hour from that point on, as I provide unbeatable entertainment.