I'm heading to to the Co. Christmas party

[ms_ann_thrope]

Maybe I'll get lucky.

 

[oggbashan]

Maybe I'll get lucky.

Just avoid the pitfalls.

 

[blobfish]

Boulder or Denver?

 

[QueenLevitra]

Maybe I'll get lucky.

Going home with lipstick dick may seem appealing, but

your career will suffer.

 

[naughtycakes]

Going home with lipstick dick may seem appealing, but

your career will suffer.

I wonder if Natasha ******* will be there.

 

[QueenLevitra]

I wonder if Natasha ******* will be there.

You've given him much more thought than I.

 

[naughtycakes]

You've given him much more thought than I.

Oh, it's totally Ken.

It cracks me up

 

[QueenLevitra]

Oh, it's totally Ken.

It cracks me up

I don't think so, but it's a man for sure.

Not that I've ever been wrong before. =]]

 

[ms_ann_thrope]

That was the closest thing to not being a party that I've ever attended. I didn't even win the table centerpiece.

 

[oggbashan]

That was the closest thing to not being a party that I've ever attended. I didn't even win the table centerpiece.

Office Christmas Parties can be embarrassing or career-wrecking. They are rarely enjoyable.

Office Party Story 1. Back in the early 1960s I was the supervisor of an office of 25 women between the ages of 15 and 25, based in the middle of an engineering works employing several thousand men. An invite to our/their office party was much sought after. I didn't enjoy it. I spent the whole event as the doorman, stopping uninvited guests and ensuring that only husbands/boyfriends got in.

Office Party Story 2. By the mid-1960s I had changed jobs and was in London. The building had many Christmas Parties for the various departments and sub-groups although there was much intermingling between each event. I had two problems. My new colleague was attending her first such event. She was an attractive, unattached young lady. I'll call her Mary, not her name. What I knew, and most office staff didn't, was that Mary was the only daughter of one of the company board members. HE had asked me to look after her at the Christmas party. He hadn't told Mary, and she found my constant presence slightly irritating until her trainee secretary, who was fifteen years old, became drunk from spiked orange juice. Mary and I had to get her secretary away from the party and downstairs to the first aid room. We stayed with her until she had sobered up enough to be poured in a taxi and sent home. I took Mary home. I was invited in for a coffee. When her father thanked me for looking after Mary, she was very angry with her father, not me. I interrupted, telling Mary that she was being unfair. If I hadn't been watching, her drinks might have been spiked too. Only then did Mary realise that I had been watching her drinks. Now she knew what to expect, she would be safe enough at future Christmas parties...

Office Party Story 3. Later, in the 1970s, my boss was a teetotal Methodist. His secretary was an evangelical Christian belonging to a West Indian gospel church and didn't drink either. But neither objected to other people drinking, which is just as well as he was heading a hard-drinking department of engineers and scientists.

The Christmas Party for the senior engineers and chemists was notorious (or famous) for the quality of the food and drink. The boss had an entertainment budget and he had enough left at Christmas for his secretary to buy as much spirits and alcohol as anyone could possibly want. Each year the chief chemist and his immediate deputies competed with each other to produce potent brews and potions, with all the resources of a multi-million pound chemical laboratory at their disposal.

This year they had excelled themselves. Apart from the high-proof illegally distilled liquors, they had produced 50 imperial gallons of beer based on an 18th Century recipe with 'improvements'.

It was a disaster waiting to happen. The first sign was when one of the senior engineers, a moderate social drinker, became legless. He had drunk a single gin and tonic. The boss's secretary had made the G&T with a half pint of gin and a third of a small bottle of tonic.

The second sign was the effect of the 18th Century beer. It was deceptively smooth and after one pint, another was the obvious chaser, and another...

At that point a Board member from the main company arrived to pay his annual Christmas visit. He was accompanied by a few of his staff. Pints of beer were pressed into their hands, and refills offered. We weren't making much of an inroad into 50 gallons. After three pints, one of the board member's staff starting singing rugby songs. After four pints, the board member started singing even more obscene ones. The local manager's secretary retreated with her hands over her ears.

The board member was due to attend another Christmas party several floors above us. We couldn't get him into the lift. He refused to move without another pint of beer. We invited the upstairs party down to join us. They did. Even with their assistance we couldn't finish the beer, so we invited the remaining junior staff in to the spectacle of their bosses being incapably drunk. It didn't take much of the potent liquor and beer for the juniors to be drunk too.

Forty staff, including the board member and all his entourage, slept on the floor at the office.

The following year? We employed a professional barman. We still got drunk but not as incapable. We were able to propel the board member and staff upstairs while he could still walk.

 

[ms_ann_thrope]

That's quite anecdotal. I've never been hit on by so many 30 something, fat lesbians in one sitting in all my life.

 

[LiFeNdEaTh]

good luck