I have three staff Christmas parties to go to this year. I don’t know how I’ll manage to behave myself at all three when I have enough trouble behaving at one. Last year I got so bored with the coked-up ‘brown nose the boss’ antics of my wanker New Media company workmates that I crashed another Christmas party at the same hotel; chatted up strangers, hit the dancefloor and nicked a bottle of wine to take back to my work’s party. (Oh how I cringed when I woke up and remembered what I’d done.)
My work party in Amsterdam the year before was pretty tame – very gezellig but hardly exciting, especially when I could only follow one sentence in three of the conversation. It didn’t help that the company was already in the first stages of slow dot-com death.
The year before was more interesting – I was ambushed by two straight girls who got me drunk and dragged me home for a threesome.