Promises and points to remember for oneself this year, before the Christmas Party;
Under no circumstances should I mount the bucking bronco, even if it is dressed up as a reindeer.
Thrusting towards to the cute marketing graduate on the dance-floor will lead to excruciating embarrassment for the whole of the next year.
The boss is not a priest, confessions will be taken down as evidence and used against me at a later date (possibly in a P45 format).
Attempting to lasso people with my scarf is only amusing to me and may result in an assault charge.
Being hailed as a ‘nutter’ is not a compliment. Do not get on stage with the band.
I cannot River-Dance, do an Irish-Jig, Belly-Dance or be a Cossack. This still applies after the consumption of alcohol.
Pole-dancing is for professionals only and pillars must not be writhed against in an unsightly (or any) manner.
Crowd-surfing is for festivals only.
There are no ‘amusing’ stories about customers. Refrain from discussing anything that may have raised a snigger in the past.
My moose impressions are not suitable for this environment.
The compere will not appreciate anyone ‘stealing his thunder’. Or his microphone. Leave well alone.
If I head-butt the toilet door whilst going to the loo, it is time to leave the party.
The Office Christmas Party is not a time to enjoy oneself. It would be wise to remember my management status.
My assistant is there to enjoy herself. Her duties do not extend to looking after me in any way, shape or form and certainly do not include holding my hair back, cajoling me to leave, fetching me water and/ or a bucket, making apologies on my behalf or reassuring me that and I am in fact brilliant and will not be sacked on Monday.
If I suddenly find myself as the Centre of Attention and realise I am the most beautiful, witty and hilarious person at the party, STOP. Immediately. This is an illusion, it is time to exit with dignity (though dignity may have left sometime earlier) and get the hell out of there!