It's the company works do this week, there are few activities quite so vexing as the Office Christmas Party; that obligatory gathering of bosses and subordinates, cronies and rivals, back-stabbers and back-stabbees. Plus a horde of husbands and wives who spend the entire night planning their escape.
But, in all seriousness, there's been a bit of a darth at the pub on a Friday night in recent weeks, and now the comic-con circuit's over for another year it's a chance to have some poncy food, drink like a fish, and all with the approval of the top brass.
I often even make my annual attempt of dancing.
Still, as we all know, there are the usual hazards involved in the office bash. This year for example it's the first time in year I haven't knocked work immediately afterwards so any potential for relying on memory loss for any indiscretions will not be a suitable back-up plan. Also it means less potential opportunities for 'doing a Sherlock' and sneaking out early. It all starts before when trying to pick your best outfit, in my case it's also a partial cosplay, aimed by teaming by Twelfth Doctor outfit with a casual shirt. It basically turns the evening into a cross between 'Time Heist' and '24-hr Party People', only without a sonic screwdriver.
So what if you slept with Rose from book-keeping. That's okay, maybe nobody knows. Maybe they didn't notice you were the last two to leave. Maybe she didn't burst in this morning announcing it to the room.
Throwing a decent party itself isn’t rocket science – New Year's Eve seems to get it better than Christmas itself for some reason - just provide drinks and snacks, assemble an upbeat playlist, have a few activities in your back pocket if people seem into it, ask everyone to dress up a teensy bit fancier than they would normally, et voilà: you have a room full of people enjoying themselves.
It should be simple enough. But that formula tends to fall apart like Birmingham City's back four when it comes to the month of December and your place of work. One December, a friend’s office Christmas lunch was booked at a central London hotel. There was great excitement all morning. Colleagues put on party frocks and snowman jumpers. The occasion promised unlimited prosecco, food and an afternoon off work.
But on arrival she found the equivalent of a Christmas party industrial complex. The banqueting hall was set for hundreds of Christmas lunches for staff parties from many companies. The turkey, sausages and roast potatoes were served from an assembly line, slopped out by bored kitchen staff who had seen it all before, and were about to see it all again.
As she ate her pale lunch, she was struck by how boring the conversation was. So she topped up her glass, then had another. When the meal was over, everyone exchanged Secret Santa gifts. Hers was tat. Then she watched as a colleague discarded her carefully chosen present. She then quit in the new year.
The 1980s Xmas party was premised upon colleagues meeting outside of the workplace, 'letting down their hair' and acting out the fiction that their relationship was founded upon friendship, not economic necessity. An essential part of that ritual was to engage in behaviour that was not permissible in normal office life - starting with public drunkenness, telling truths that could not be uttered elsewhere, misuse of the photocopier, etc etc
Most of us are now aware that work colleagues don't evade HR rules by putting on a paper hat. The rules of normal office life are seen to apply at all times. Colleagues now have more diverse perceptions of what is acceptable. Views about alcohol differ, and any joke can be misinterpreted as aggressive, or demeaning.
Still what's the worst that can happen, eh ??