Christmas office parties are where mistakes happen. It is the one time of year where people who see each other every single day get together "off the clock", drink heavily, and break every single rule that they have to live by during the 364 other days of the year. It's a recipe for disaster, and I have been caught up in frying pan against my better judgment.
For the first couple of years I was with the company, I purposefully avoided the Christmas celebration at the office. I knew that it was bad news because I get a little bit wild when I drink. Unfortunately, some of my work friends knew all about my wild side from a night when we all went to the bar together after work and I ended up wearing the bartender's brassiere on my head. The begged me to come to the Christmas party that year because, apparently, it would be boring without me. I should have declined.
There was a fair amount of pressure on me, but there was no way I was going to go nuts at this party. This was my career, after all. I wore a fairly racy Holiday shirt that played off the old "mistletoe" gag. I even wore a pair of reindeer antlers. Cute, but not crazy, is what I wanted to go for. Then tequila got involved, and things got a little nuts. I have a weakness for that agave-based libation, and I don't remember an awful lot about the end of the party. I was told later that I spent a while locked in the boss' office. Locked in the attractive, divorced boss' office with her in it. Someone kill me.
It was a whole year of people making jokes about what happened during that one, fateful party. My wild side did not exactly match up well with my normal demeanor, and people took great pleasure in making me turn beet red by mentioning my exploits. A year came and went and it was time for another Christmas party. I was going to wear a simple shirt and maybe some silly antlers, or something. Instead, my friends came over to my house and got me drunk. I ended up wear an obscene Christmas tee that they brought for me and the whole debacle from the previous year was played out all over again at that year's Christmas shindig. Hooray for my weak willpower.
I guess I'm the King of the Office Christmas Party now. It's not a crown that I wear easily, I assure you. Some people would revel in the popularity and attention, but I really don't want to be known across the company as "the guy who wears funky Christmas tees, shoots tequila, and photocopies his rear." I guess it's not all bad. I did get a pretty good raise this year, after all. I guess it's time for me to start shopping around for insane Christmas tees before someone buys one for me.
For the first couple of years I was with the company, I purposefully avoided the Christmas celebration at the office. I knew that it was bad news because I get a little bit wild when I drink. Unfortunately, some of my work friends knew all about my wild side from a night when we all went to the bar together after work and I ended up wearing the bartender's brassiere on my head. The begged me to come to the Christmas party that year because, apparently, it would be boring without me. I should have declined.
There was a fair amount of pressure on me, but there was no way I was going to go nuts at this party. This was my career, after all. I wore a fairly racy Holiday shirt that played off the old "mistletoe" gag. I even wore a pair of reindeer antlers. Cute, but not crazy, is what I wanted to go for. Then tequila got involved, and things got a little nuts. I have a weakness for that agave-based libation, and I don't remember an awful lot about the end of the party. I was told later that I spent a while locked in the boss' office. Locked in the attractive, divorced boss' office with her in it. Someone kill me.
It was a whole year of people making jokes about what happened during that one, fateful party. My wild side did not exactly match up well with my normal demeanor, and people took great pleasure in making me turn beet red by mentioning my exploits. A year came and went and it was time for another Christmas party. I was going to wear a simple shirt and maybe some silly antlers, or something. Instead, my friends came over to my house and got me drunk. I ended up wear an obscene Christmas tee that they brought for me and the whole debacle from the previous year was played out all over again at that year's Christmas shindig. Hooray for my weak willpower.
I guess I'm the King of the Office Christmas Party now. It's not a crown that I wear easily, I assure you. Some people would revel in the popularity and attention, but I really don't want to be known across the company as "the guy who wears funky Christmas tees, shoots tequila, and photocopies his rear." I guess it's not all bad. I did get a pretty good raise this year, after all. I guess it's time for me to start shopping around for insane Christmas tees before someone buys one for me.
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