During the last oil boom, Christmas parties became monster occasions in downtown
Single and still fairly young, I once had three women that I was dating show up at the same party. The ballroom was so large and the crowds so thick, I almost made it without getting caught. Almost!
A year or so later, I made the break from Texas Oil & Gas, forming a partnership with a geophysicist friend of mine. We had an office on the eighth floor of the
In addition to John and me, there was a small oil company, a land (oil leases) company, two lawyers and a couple of independent geologists. We all knew each other and decided to go together and have a Christmas party on our floor. We chipped in for the booze and food, and one of the lawyers mentioned that he had a few waitresses as clients that owed him money. He was sure that they would waitress for free in exchange for working off some of their indebtedness to him.
About this time I had just begun dating Anne and wanted desperately to impress her. When the night of the party arrived John and I had a big shock. The lawyer’s waitresses were really strippers and they were dressed only in baby dolls. Since they weren’t being paid and they weren’t afraid of being fired, they quickly began sampling the hooch as fast as they dispensed it.
Word soon spread. Before long the hallways were packed with leering geologists, landmen and engineers. The girls didn’t mind. They soon doffed their tops, and then their bottoms.
Anne showed up with a friend, a matronly secretary. After practically fainting, the older lady hurried back to the elevators, leaving the increasingly rowdy crowd for safer climes. I don’t remember a lot after that, having already consumed way too much whiskey.
The party continued until all the whiskey was gone, and the girls dressed and departed. Anne was a good sport about the situation, as was Debbie, John’s future wife that also showed up. Anne remained sober, had a clear head and drove me home safely. I awoke to a massive hangover and a ringing phone. The news of the party had spread and those that had missed it were calling to see if the stories were really true.
The following year John and I were drilling oil wells and had several employees. Instead of the previous year’s drunken debacle we hosted a sedate wine and cheese party that lasted only until seven. It didn’t matter as hundreds of oil industry voyeurs showed up anyway, just in case.
Those were the go go years of the last oil boom. Even amid the blurred memories, many things that occurred read almost like fiction. The events that occurred during that era were anything but fictional. Not even I could make this stuff up.