Fight for Your Right

Christmas draws ever-closer and I thought it would be a good time to discuss another thing I hate.

Work Christmas parties.

Thankfully I won’t be attending one this year.

I could potentially choose from two if I wished.

One would be with a racist old man that would probably end in a brawl. He hates Christmas as much as I do, so there’s no chance anyway.

The other would be by myself. There’s too much of a risk that I’d get drunk and try and take advantage of myself, so it’s a no there too.

I’ve been to many Christmas parties with colleagues before and I have some tips.

The best bet is to involve alcohol. As much of it as you can get your hands on.

It’s the only way to possibly get through the forced jollity of Secret Santa and Christmas jumper competitions. And accidentally ending up sitting with people you don’t like very much.

Just grin and bear it whilst knocking back bottled lager and Amaretto chasers.

Participating in the nonsense won’t fool people into believing you like Christmas any more than wearing a swimming cap in Yo! Sushi will convince them you’re a Russian spy, but if you get dangerously pissed they might leave you alone.

Find a like-minded person and sit with them, scowling at other co-workers and occasionally making statements like “Christmas bastards!” to un-nerve them. Try swigging neat spirits straight from the bottle to add effect.

Some people genuinely love Christmas and these people spoil a Christmas party. All their smiles and laughter and demanding people dance makes me sick.

I attended these awful affairs, like most other people, because they were free. And often because if I didn’t go I’d lose half a-day’s pay.

Inevitably I’d generally had enough of it by the early evening. There’s only so many times you can hear that you’re simply having a wonderful Christmas time while you’re not and I’d do the old pretending-to-go-to-the-toilet-but-actually-just-sneaking-out-of-the-pub-while-nobody-was-looking move.

I’d make my way home, through crowds of people who were wearing flashing reindeer antlers or elf jumpers. They all looked at me with jealousy. “How have you escaped?” their eyes seemed to ask me.