Tis’ the Season to Partay

Holiday Hoopla - Jeff Charlebois

The holidays are once again upon us. Many people believe it’s that special time of the year when we take a step back, stop thinking about ourselves, reach out, give to the needy, and become a little closer to the ones we love. Oh, please. Let’s face it, the holidays really mean… time to par-tay! And, isn’t that the real reason for the season? In the words of the highly astute intellectual Charlie Sheen, “without a party, life has no purpose.”

Women are the backbone of a party. They put up decorations, buy cute snowman paper plates, and light the scented pine candles. Men are just good at buying the liquor at the store. The poor ladies are stuck slaving in the kitchen for days, making holiday dishes: appetizers, dips, cookies, cakes and pies; and then, their fat husbands come in and eat everything in five minutes. Frantic women run back-and-forth to the store, because they forgot to buy the brown sugar or butter, while the lazy men watch football. But, it doesn’t bother the wives, they have learned over the years that if they ask their husbands to help them out, he’ll screw things up worse and add to the workload. “I said I needed a pound of flour. Not this. This is a jar of olives.”

During the holiday season, there are three significant parties that are usually attended: the office party, the Christmas party, and the New Year’s Eve party. After all, it is the only time of the year where it’s legal to wear a bright green and red wooly reindeer sweater.

The Office Party: This is the time of year when you really get to know the person you’ve been working with every day for the past year. It is the one workday you can throw professionalism out the window, and let folks see the real you. It is the moment when the nerdy shy computer guy comes to life. Dr. Techyl becomes Mr. Hyde-tech. At some point, he’ll be on the dance floor busting a move to a Christina Aguilera song, while employees sit back and snicker, “Damn, I didn’t know Habib had it in him.”

Conversations usually start out with “shop talk” (the company sales, projections, new ideas for next year) then after a few holiday cocktails the loosened-up employees start talking about their colleagues, “I don’t know what the hell he does. He always acts so busy, but he doesn’t do anything.” After a few more drinks, someone has a meltdown. Janice tells a co-worker that her husband has been cheating on her, and then she’s in the corner, crying by the copy machine decorated with a sparkly garland, being consoled by the old lady who’s had the same job since the company was started in the 60’s. Then you have Bob, the bs-ing salesman telling jokes to the hot new intern as he makes sure her punch cup is always full. Bob is the guy that always has a big deal in the works, but no one can ever get a hold of him. For Christmas gifts, he usually gives out promotional items like magnets with logos of companies he does business with.

It’s a given that someone is going to get sloppy drunk and make a complete buffoon of themselves. It’s usually the quiet one who never ever drinks. These are the people who are more often stellar employees, but for some reason, the office party brings out the beast in them. With each drink, their comments get ruder and crazier. They morph into a hyper drunk as they zip about the room, groping and hitting on anything that moves. They stagger about, joining in on everyone’s conversation, eventually knocking something over or falling down. Everyone’s like “and this is the guy in charge of our 401k plan.” Eventually, he’s totally sloshed and yelling out things like, “I hate my job! What are you looking at?!” And the infamous, “This Company can kiss my ass. I don’t need them! I don’t need anyone! What are you looking at? You’re pretty.” At some point, he’ll have to return back to work and do the walk of shame through the cubicles, which will be a long treacherous one indeed. ...
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by Jeff Charlebois


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