Office Christmas parties

All of us are capable of making right merry arses of ourselves when the mulled wine emerges at the office Christmas party. Ensure you still have a job in the New Year by following this wisdom.

"Just because I work in accounts, doesn't mean I'm boring. WHEY!"

Don’t drink too much and vomit

“My friend started a job at a posh accountancy firm in the City a week before the Christmas party. She was really nervous and drank far too much. She threw up on the dance floor and her boss fell over in it,” says Alex, 24.

Do not barf on, or in close proximity to, your boss (unless you really despise them). As a rule of thumb, spewing up in front of those you have to face at work is a surefire way to spoil any remnants of professional demeanour you may have ever had.

Don’t bitch about your boss

Work parties make fertile breeding ground for gossip, bitching and back-stabbing. However, Sod’s Law dictates that while you’re brazenly slagging off that stupid old fart from accounts/stuck-up cow from HR, he or she is standing right behind you, listening to every word. At which point you need to start digging a large hole to cringe in forever.

Don’t misuse office equipment

Don’t use (or abuse) nearby objects for anything other than their original, intended purpose. If you have a sudden urge to vault over a table while one of your seniors looks on, resist. But if your sense of reason spontaneously malfunctions and you do end up attempting such a feat of idiocy, well, quite frankly you deserve to still be nursing your wounds during the Queen’s speech.

And for those frolicking in offices, bear in mind that photocopier glass does actually break.

Control your dance moves

If you can’t dance, don’t. Or at least don’t put your back out by trying. Also, you trying to remember all the moves to any one of Beyonce’s latest songs is unforgivable at any time of year.

Don’t get off with your colleagues or boss

Christmas is the time for love and giving, but don’t give out your loving so frivolously you find GUM clinic referral cards in your in-tray a few weeks later.

“I worked at Sainsbury’s as a ‘Fresh Foods Stock Replenisher’ (i.e. a shelf stacker) and got very drunk at our work’s Christmas party. I decided that my weird and ugly work colleague, Pete, looked more attractive than I’d ever realised before, and that it would be a great idea to express my feelings towards him in the form of a blow job in the ladies’ loo. Now, that was a pretty bad in itself but I then went on to get off with Aaron from the meat and fish counter – in full view of everyone on the dance floor. What’s more, I hadn’t rinsed from the toilet incident, not realising that I’d soon be snogging Aaron,” recalls Jen, 21.

“Everyone found out about my act of ‘goodwill’ in the toilets – even the managers. A week later, there was another work party and I pulled another colleague (Ben from checkouts). A couple of weeks after that I left my career at Sainsbury’s.”

Fighting with the DJ

OK, so the guy behind the decks wearing ‘comedy’ reindeer antlers might seem a complete jingle bell-end, but lamping him for playing Mistletoe and Wine just isn’t in the best of festive spirit.

Getting stuck with the boring co-worker

You’re all fired up for an enjoyable night, but somehow you’ve become engaged in a conversation so lifeless it makes a brussel sprout seem an inspiring dinner guest. Is there any escape? Yes, and it doesn’t involve a Vulcan Death Grip. Instead, play the works-every-time “I have to go to the loo” card, then make a break for it.

I can’t remember what I did at the office Christmas party!

“I got absolutely shitfaced at the party, and afterwards my workmates informed me I’d got off with the 60-something hag of a canteen lady. They could have been winding me up, but then again I couldn’t be sure that I hadn’t got off with her…” says Tim, 23.

Basically, if memory fails you in the immediate post-party period, someone else will no doubt gleefully inform you of every single buttock-clenchingly shameful antic you got up to. If not, your wicked little mind will do it for you in the form of toe-curling flashbacks that replay over and over again in the middle of the night until you weep with self-disgust into your pillow.