Love them or hate them, the office Christmas party is always one that’s spoken about for weeks on end after it’s over. In your head, it’ll be spoken about in a good way like ‘aw wasn’t it cute when we all got together, wore party hats and celebrated the fact it’s nearly Jesus’s birthday’. The reality however is often much different, which is why I’m spilling the tea on the inevitable stages of the office Christmas party.
For starters, you don’t even want to go to the bloody thing. You leave the organiser hanging for as long as possible and hide whenever you see them coming to ask you if you’ll be there this year. You see enough of these people day in, day out…why would you want to spend another night with them?!
BUT… as always, you reluctantly accept. You don’t want to seem like the ultimate office crank now do you? The night arrives and you tell yourself you’ll just stay for an hour or so and maybe have one or two drinks. WRONG. Somehow you end up necking 10 white wine miniatures while you’re doing your makeup and you rock up to the Christmas do resembling a drag queen who has gone a bit OTT on the glitter.
You arrive at the venue in time for the meal and you try not to embarrass yourself by opting for a small dish, which turns out to be the biggest mistake you’ll make in your adult life. ‘A little bit merry’ is an understatement by this point, because unfortunately a side salad just doesn’t outweigh the sneaky loner pre-drinks you’ve had.
Meals over and done with and as your colleagues talking to you, they begin to morph into a doner kebab because you can’t get the thought of one out your brain. This calls for another drink. You call on your fellow alcoholic disgrace of a work friend and head to the bar. All of a sudden, you become tap happy with your debit card and before you know it, you’ve got a line of sambuca shots in front of you that are calling your name.
At this point, it’s finally dawned on you that you’re no longer ‘just having one and leaving early’ and you proceed to transform into Beyonce on the dance floor. The body ripples and booty shaking moves make their appearance while you shuffle in front of your boss singing ‘if ya like it then ya shoulda put a ring on it’. Surely this will get you the promotion you’ve been desperate for for ages?!
You’ve gone from wanting to sack the whole office Christmas party off, to being one of the last ones there. Your sensible colleague who doesn’t drink decides enough’s enough and offers to take you home. Hahaha, good luck with that one hun. They soon regret it because you’re annoying as hell on the journey home, as you keep begging for a kebab whilst simultaneously moaning about needing to puke.
You arrive home and climb into the heavenly pit that is bed, still fully clothed. The next morning you wake up to a duvet covered in glitter and your partner is threatening to dump your ass for being such a hot mess.
You think to yourself how next year, you’ll DEFINITELY just have the one and go home. You may not even go. In fact, you may even quit work you’re that embarrassed, who knows…
(Plot twist…you go again next year, using ‘it’s Christmas, why not?’ as an excuse to win the office hot gossip award for the 5th year running. Oops).