I try not to go to parties. I’m better at chit-chat than I used to be, but still not very good. I just end up feeling awkward and ill-at-ease, and wondering how much more of this contractual obligation I’ll be forced to endure. But, of course, sometimes you just can’t get out of it. And I’m mostly talking about work-related boolshit.
Today I’d like to briefly tell you about a few memorable things that happened during work Christmas parties I’ve attended, and turn it over to you guys to do the same. It doesn’t necessarily have to be work-related, although those are usually the most cringe-worthy. It could be family parties that descended into drunken fistfights, or private parties that came fully and completely off the rails. Just please share any holiday party horror stories you’ve collected along the way. And I thank you in advance.
In Atlanta they had a big shindig upstairs in the conference room one year at work. The booze was flowing, which was surprising, since that company was always paranoid about liability, etc. In any case, there was a woman there who was about as straitlaced as they come. She was very churchy and dressed like a librarian, circa 1956. Early in the evening Toney and I noticed her drinking, which seemed out of character. Interesting.
After a while she was getting all flirty with her boss, putting her hands all over him and whatnot. It was an amazing thing to behold. Then, about 90 minutes in, there was a loud WOOOOO!!, and everybody turned to see what was going on. That chinless woman did about three full spins as she entered the dance floor with her hands above her head, and proceeded to thrust and grind and go completely to town with it. Her vagina was pumping forward and backward like a piece of industrial machinery, and I don’t think I stopped laughing until sometime early the next day.
Also in Atlanta, a few years earlier, I was in a dark place, my friends. My girlfriend and I had recently broken up, and I was in a state of despair. The party that year was at a concert venue called Center Stage, and the open bars were doing a turnaway business. At one point I was thoroughly intoxicated and talking to some woman who worked at Geffen Records. I sorta knew her, but not really. And I said something along the lines of “Hey, whenever you wise up and ditch that bag of shit,” gesturing toward her antlers-wearing date, who could’ve been her husband for all I knew, “give me a call.”
WTF?? The look on her face was horrifying, and every time I thought about it over the next few days, which was pretty much all the time… my body would go into a full clench. Who did I think I was? I can’t pull off that kind of thing. I’m Jeff Kay, and have a VERY limited range. The amazing thing? She called me, and we went out a few times. Unfortunately, she found me intriguing at first, then (I’m connecting the dots) vulgar and repulsive. Pass the beer nuts.
Finally, in California the company’s CEO would open his mansion every December to us home office peasants, and Toney and I went a couple of times. The house overlooked the ocean, was roughly the size of my hometown, and had a giant fountain in the middle, like something from a Las Vegas hotel. They always had magicians and fortune tellers there, and all sorts of incredible food and drink.
During the first year Toney’s friend Renee got 100% shitfaced on White Russians and was stumbling around the patio with a cig dangling off her lips. She was trying to find someone with matches or a lighter, and we were grimacing like Gilbert Gottfried watching it all unfold. Eventually she approached a group of older women, and one of them informed her that smoking was not allowed. And Renee said, “Yeah, thanks for nothing, bitch.”
Unfortunately, she was talking to the CEO’s wife. And… Renee left the company soon thereafter. She wasn’t forced out, but was reportedly told it might be a good move for her. Heh.
And now it’s your turn. Do you have anything to add? If so, use the comments section. Also, please don’t forget to pass through one of our Amazon links while doing your holiday shopping. ‘Tis the season for constant reminders!
I’ll see you guys again soon.
Support us by doing your shopping at Amazon! In Canada? Here’s your link. Thank you guys!
No drinking here –
But I have seen people fight over a drill from Big Lots. We do a choose a number and pick a gift thing. What really cracks me up is the people with money bring a bag of chips to the party. Those who make less end up bringing the chicken or lasagna or whatever.
True in my experience too. The same pattern holds true for most potluck types of parties that I have been to. Mr and Mrs Ritchie Rich show up with a jar of pickles of some similar type of lame offering, while single-mom-with-service-industry-job shows up with a pot roast or somesuch. Donald Trump can always be counted on to bring a bag of Cheetos.
That’s how we stay rich baby!
I prefer humble frugality to attention seeking costly time wasters at something that doesn’t matter much anyways.
Nobody cares what you think
I could tell you about the time my mother showed up at my house for Christmas with a stranger in tow. A huuuuuge woman of over 500 pounds. No, I’m not exaggerating. She broke one of my dining room chairs and we had to buy a new couch afterwards. Stunk to high heaven, too. But it’s a boring story, so I’ll skip it.
But, I’m really looking forward to this year’s gathering at my daughter’s with her extended family of in-law’s. Not because I want to see everyone and my heart is so full of love and whatnot. Oh, no. It’s because my daughter’s brother-in-law came out last week on Facebook. After he had defriended all his family members. Heh. I can’t wait to sit back and watch the hilarity unfold. My daughter’s father-in-law is so homophobic, we may need to have EMS on standby for the inevitable heart attack (or faking thereof). I cannot WAIT for Christmas!
Our boss would throw 2 Christmas parties, the “A” group was all of the managers and PhDs (research group)…Pouilly Fusse and baked brie, yadda yadda. The “B” group was the rest of us on the following Saturday…Genny cream ale, nacho chips and mini-weinies in pastry. He wouldn’t even show up for the “B” groupers and the party was at his house! Deplorable, yes….but without the big shots, we had a good time. His wife handed out our “pay adjustments,” i.e. raises and bonuses. Screwed up? Yes, but I don’t really like brie.
I was working at a high tech company in Austin in 2001 and we had our Christmas party at a small restaurant that the company rented out for the evening. Pretty sure there was an open bar, because karaoke started. Everyone was taking turns “singing” and at one point our HR director got up to sing and got on top of a table to do her singing. Well, she fell off and busted open her head. 911 was called and she got checked out and her husband had to come and pick her up. The party ended shortly thereafter. haahaa
Company Christmas party. Around 300 people. Nice hotel on the coast site.
Japanese owned company. Biggest boss was a Japanese effeminate dude with poor command of English, and a real ballbuster asshole.
Decides to have the music cut in the middle of the party and everyone gathers. We’re thinking bonuses or performance prizes.
Nope.
That motherfuhcker brings out his flute that he happened to have brought along. Proceeds to play some Japanese piper song. Brown nosers over applaud and request, “More!.” 2 more songs played. Japanese boss ends with fake humble bowing, “No-ah more tank you-ah” with Kanye West face.
My new job’s “company holiday party” is Thursday. I’m not going. I’m actually employed by a subcontractor to them, and I’m afraid I’d be made to take PTO for that (of which I am in the hole). But I’m hoping to be out of there soon-ish.
$PREVIOUS_EMPLOYER had pretty good parties; the last few years it’s been a buffet at a local restaurant/bar. They had drawings for good door prizes, like BATVs. The president would hand out bonus checks. Drinking with my work buds, flirting with my work wife.
Here’s one I’m actually looking forward to. A friend of mine, a former boss from way back, hosts an annual party which is coming up this Saturday. He deep-fries a couple of turkeys and everyone brings a side dish or snack, and there are always some old friends there. The highlight of the evening is Dollar Store Santa. Dave puts on a Santa hat and makes the rounds with a pillowcase full of “gifts” from the dollar store; he guarantees that the wrapping paper is worth more than what’s inside. Last year’s favorite was a utensil labeled “slotted spoon;” the spoon in fact had no slots.
And I’m going to NYC to see my mom for The Day itself. It seems like the right thing to do.
One year after a round of layoffs with several weeks’ notice, the company I worked for had a holiday party anyway, for some reason. There was a DJ taking requests and someone had him play “Take This Job and Shove It.” It was quite satisfying.
Left my old job for one that paid more money with less time on the road. My second day was the annual Christmas Party. First on the agenda was a speech by the CEO and he opened with, “I want to thank all of you that have stuck with us as we head into bankruptcy.”
My new boss turned to me and said, “Ah, I need to talk to you about something when he gets done.”
New job Christmas party is next week. I have no idea what to expect from the lecherous patriarch to the drunk stoner receptionist. Stay tuned.
Most of my career Christmas parties were low key but pleasant affairs. Nothing outrageous to report.
Nice description of the characters (I abused dope and booze, but was never successful in abusing them simultaneously, so I have some respect for the receptionist). I really hope you’ll Edward R Murrow the shit out of that party for us. Have fun.
jtb
Re: abusing multiple substances. I’d be willing to give you a tutorial if you’d have some fun with that. I am only as successful as I am at adulting due to my mastery of self-medicating. I’ll be your Yoda. Teach you I will. There is no try, only do! Btw, you are my WVSR commenter hero. I’ve been following your work here for many years. I realize that makes me sound like a stalker. Sorry ’bout that.
Harry, as Alan Alda once said, that’s highly Selassie of you. I’ll decline the tutorial offer with thanks. Forty years ago I was trying to figure out how to proportion psychedelics, grass and bourbon for a well-balanced disposition. These days, I spend too much time trying to balance beta blockers, blood thinners, statins and opiates (gotta have opiates), in a, perhaps, futile effort to stay alive until the next election. I’m an advocate of self-medication, but the specialists haven’t left me much wiggle-room.
John
The last corporation I worked for thought Christmas Day was the perfect time to recover some of the slip in the coding schedule. Not a joke sadly.
Those Bastards!
Having spent too many years in corporate IT management, asking programmers to work on Christmas Day sounds like a great way to increase productivity, if your product is logic bombs. If you want clean code, a little more respect might be in order.
I assume this was in a geography in which there weren’t any other IT shops. If you run IT like an oligarch, the competition will fuck your five year plan in the ass.
jtb
A good percentage of the coders and management weren’t Christians, or nominally Christians. I’m not religious but I do the tree, the gifts, the eating and drinking too much, the falling asleep on the sofa. I guess from their point of view they were expected to work on the Chinese New Year or Diwali or whatever, why is Christmas different?
Christmas is different because we’re in the United States and Christmas is a national holiday, while the Chinese New Year or the five days of Diwali aren’t. If I’m CIO, I’m happy to give Hindus, Buddhists, Taoists, or Republicans any day off they request in advance, whether that day is primarily secular like Christmas and Thanksgiving, or primarily religious, like Easter and Diwali (although they are both celebrated primarily secularly).
Robert Frost ends his poem Hyla Brook with the line, “We love the things we love for what they are.” People in the United States, whether Christian or not, expect to celebrate something on December 25. What they want to make of it is up to them. How they are treated in the workplace is up to their employer.
Screwing with employees is a kind of sport with the MBAs who run corporations. Screwing with their families is a loser’s game.
John
Had office Christmas dinner at a swanky steakhouse, did dirty santa gift exchange. Most everybody brought a decent gift, or at least funny, except one guy who brought an inflatable sex doll. That gift ended up in the hands of a coworkers wife, who happens to be the most offended person alive. She doesn’t like anyone or anything. She got very upset, sat in silence for a few minutes, then requested their check and declared they were leaving NOW.
It was a pretty awkward, and not what I call appropriate for that kind of party.
What kind of company has a “dirty Santa gift exchange”? It’s like a Roadrunner cartoon: You know the rock is going to fall off the cliff and land on Wile E. Coyote, but it’s fun to watch anyway. In this case, a lawsuit, but F=ma whatever the object.
John
“Do you have anything to add?”
I’m always the drunkest and I don’t remember…
probably.
The End
Not a Christmas party but a 4th of July party 10 or 12 years ago. I was there but didn’t see this unfold until it was over. We’re all in the backyard at my friend’s place cooking out when we heard a ruckus from the neighbours across the street. Lots of yelling then peeling out if tires, a loud thud, then screaming and crying. The across the street neighbours were drunk got into a fist fight, dude takes off in his truck, does a 180 in the street, comes back and runs over neighbour killing him dead on the spot then takes off. We all run out to see what happened, 911 was called, lots of hysterical commotion from other neighbours. He layed in the street for 20 minutes before cops and ambulance showed up. Nobody felt like eating burgers after that.
That must’ve happened in Florida. That’s how I remember it from growing up there.
Close, Tennessee.
Title says holiday parties so I am including last Thanksgiving.
As usual, we attended at my equal in age to me, mother in laws house. Everything was going fine until dinner. But, by then, the Child Bride had guzzled eight glasses of wine and a shot of something. She refused to eat and stood in a corner the entire time. Afterwards , the obligatory campfire was built and several of us sat around it, wondering about the possibility of it setting the woods on fire.
We heard a thump, and, oh, what a thump! This was the sound of Child Bride punching her sister in the face and her sister hitting the floor. Then, Triple H style, she grabbed a glass picture off the wall and smashed it over her head. Resentment runs high in the Springer family. Needless to say, we are not invited to holiday parties there anymore.
Another party for Christmas years ago was at Genetheassholefromphilly’ s house during the Bob Evans days.AWG drank way too much and fell backward into paneling. Next day I went there and saw a Wile E Coyote imprint thru the wall. My hands were in the air, like I just don’t care.