Now when I say Office Christmas Party I’m not talking about a little gathering in a conference room where you do the Secret Santa exchange. I’m talking about the company wide party where the rent out a bar or do a fancy hotel party or something. Because those office parties are where the real shit goes down. Those nights are either the best night or your life, or the worst night of your life, depending on how things go down. And the reason for that is there’s only 2 paths you can take – 1.) You’re the guy getting embarrassingly shitfaced making an ass of yourself, or 2.) You’re the person thats sitting back and watching other people get embarrassingly shitfaced making an ass of themselves.
Without fail theres always a couple people who can’t handle their liquor trying to keep up with the crowd who end up completely blacked out. One year when I was trapped in the Cubes there was this Indian kid who was probably 6 foot 4, 60 pounds. Never touched a drop of booze in his life. Took him about 45 minutes before his lifeless body was being carried out of the Waldorf-Astoria by a couple coworkers to an ambulance outside. From that day forward his nickname was Weekend At Bernies. Another chick was so blacked out she ended up being picked up by the police walking across the goddam Brooklyn Bridge at like 2 in the morning. Its like the ultimate “amateur night” where you got everyone – whether its Diane from accounting who’s 50 years old with 3 kids, or Muhammad from Hyderabad, India – getting blacked out like they know how to party. 40 year old guys making the “next round is on me!” joke because there’s an open bar and the booze in unlimited. The orthodox Jewish woman who’s definitely judging anybody binge drinking. I swear, the only people on the planet that can ruin free booze are Cube Monkey Coworkers.
But of course the best part of the Office Christmas Party is seeing who’s gonna fuck who. There’s always like 2 polar opposite hook ups – One is the lucky son of a bitch who fucks the chick whos a Real-Life-5-But-An-Office-8. That guy walks in the next day like the cock of the walk. The cats pajamas. He fucked the decently cute chick with the fat dumper who uses the copy machine near your desk. Ordinarily she would be called chunky but in the office shes the hottest chick on earth. The second hook up is the guy who fucks the disgusting Indian girl who has never seen a dentist or heard of deodorant. She’s a 0 and because shes a coworker she’s really like a -2. Just the polar opposite of the Real-Life-5-But-An-Office-8. Guy was to walk into the office the next day and face about 1 million “Somebody had a good time last night!” comments from people who have never gotten laid in their lives. I’ve never been that guy but if I ever was I’d be like “Yea, I got shitfaced beyond believe on the company dime and fucked the fat minority. You know why? Because I’m trapped in the fucking Cubes and every moment in this maze of monotony could be my last. So I cut loose and went and harpooned a whale. How was your night loser?” Merry Christmas you assholes.
And no, I’m not saying Happy Holidays because I don’t give a fuck about the people in the office that celebrate Hanukah or Kwanzaa or Ramadan or whatever. All I want for Christmas is a severance package.