The Office Christmas Party

Well, we've all had one, or are about to have one, or aren't old enough to have one. Either way, the Christmas party at the office is the highlight of the working calender. That and any form of annual leave.

So, had mine last Friday. And it was at a very plush hotel near the Strand. If I told you the name of it, I'm sure you'd all say Ooooh, and so I won't.

Just for the record, plush venue may equal plush service but seldom does it equate to plush food. I've had plenty of better roast dinners in my time. In fact, just the other afternoon Katerina and I had lunch at our favourite roast joint here in Central London. And it was bloody marvellous.

I should and do consider myself fortunate to be working for an company that pays for pretty much everything. A mini-cab to the venue, all the alcohol I could possibly consume once I arrived, all the food and the DJ, and then a plush taxi (with Heat magazine tucked firmly into the magazine rack and bottles of water) back once it was all over.

But it's funny, working at such a low level and seeing all the office elite get bladdered at the first downpour of mulled wine. To see them run riot after a few glasses of bubbly and to see my HR manager plastered over the dance floor, gyrating to the rhythm of a song by fifty-cents.

Coming from an Indian family, it surprises me just how quick non-Indians are to jump onto the dance floor at the first sign of any music. Indians are so much more reserved. I'd much prefer it if they were as candid about their desire to boogie as they were about their desire to see me have an arranged marriage.

Don't get me wrong, once people are up on the dance floor it's difficult (and occasionally not worth the effort) to drag them away, but getting them there in the first place is often very difficult. That's when the local vamp has to intervene and titillate their taste buds, so to speak, with a shimmer of her chiffon sari beneath the disco lights.

So, back to my Christmas party. Why is it always the 'admin staff' who have the most fun. I'm sure this is true of any organisation. The man who works in our library was plastered even before he'd finished his turkey. And once the bar was open there was no stopping his head as it hit the table, or his legs are they hit the table, or indeed any part of his body as it hit the table.

And secretaries dance so well, don't they? Well, most do. And the occasional loud mouth who insisted on trying to pull my black tie off!

Now this year I was really looking forward to seeing sexual acquaintances develop or reveal themselves during the course of the evening. Alas, nothing. Not one tongue in one ear! Perhaps because we have recently merged, or perhaps because we are small enough to avoid the possibility of people fancying one another (something I doubt).

Sexually it was a dud, the food was also a semi-dud but all in all I had far more fun than I'd anticipated.

I wonder where I'll be at this time next year. Perhaps locked up in a posh cubicle with a fellow work colleague at another office party. Here's hoping!