The men of the office party

End-of-year parties. Has your office thrown one already or are HR and Accounts still haggling over whether they should throw it at Carnivore or at Bomas?

Are emails still flying back and forth discussing if there should be more beer than wine? Chicken or goat?

Is Accounts still sitting on the damned budget? What is it with accountants anyway, always trying to rain on everybody’s parade?

You have all worked hard throughout the year and made a pile of money for the company; why can’t they just close their eyes and throw money at a good party?

But seriously, just how disastrous can office-parties get? Today I’m going to talk about some gentlemen in the office, the ones who see office parties as a chance to unleash their alter ego. Please don’t do that, not this year. Please don’t embarrass everybody and yourself.

There are two types of guys in the office when it comes to office parties.

The first guy hardly ever says much – that guy who slaves silently in the corner, never bothers anyone, wears those ties with a knot the size of a pumpkin, keeps his head down.

In fact, the only time you will register his presence is when you see him copied on email or you see his reply. Otherwise he moves silently in the office… until the end-year party when he really lets loose.

GET LUCKY

At some point during the party, you will suddenly see this guy on the dance-floor, wiggling and twisting and writhing, coat tails flapping in the air, compelling other lesser dancers to keep a safe distance.

Drink in hand, you will turn to the person to your left and ask, “Does that guy work with us?” You will be told he does. “Haiya, I’ve never seen him. Which department?” You will be told which department and you will look closer and shriek laughing, “Wait, is that Pato?”

It’s always a guy called Pato. He is most likely from Accounts or one of those departments where people don’t speak much to each other; where people read Bibles or self-help books during their tea break. (You don’t see that happening a lot in marketing, do you?)

No matter, Pato is always that guy who ends up enjoying the end-of-year party more than anyone else.

Slightly chubby, mostly shy, at the party this guy will always be the last man standing on the dance-floor. It doesn’t matter that Pato dances like a constipated penguin, Pato still dances. Every song is Pato’s song.

If you are just standing there, nursing your one drink because apparently your drink of choice wasn’t bought, acting all cool because you come from Marketing, Pato will suddenly grab your wrist and drag you to the dance-floor as you complain.

He will dance more than anyone else, mostly because he will have drank more than anyone else.

Sometimes Pato also transforms to the second character. The amorous character.

The one who gets drunk and thinks that he’s Don Juan. He will look at the boss’s PA, sitting there holding her glass of Amarula, and imagine that what she has been missing in her life, what will really spice her life, is him.

So he will strut over and get fresh with her. If he fails – and he will – he will shrug it off and try his luck with that leggy girl from Supplies, the one who only got married in March. He will sidle up next to her and whisper in her ear, “Let’s elope.”

She will laugh and tell him he is sweet and silly, but he will only hear the “sweet” part and lean in further and say, “No, really, let’s elope.” When she evades his nuisance, he will walk up to HR and tell her, “Let’s elope.” Some get lucky, because sometimes you hear crazy things happened during office parties.

CALM YOUR TITS

But the most brazen of them is the guy who takes a shot at his female boss, because now she is in a short black number and is laughing more than he has seen her laugh the whole year.

Breaking news: your chance of success is three per cent, and I think that’s a modest figure because I’m sort of writing this now with a small hangover.

And that’s the point of this article; the office party is not the Second Coming.

Next year will find you working with the same guys. You will be at the same desk, doing the same things, so it’s always nice to remember this.

So gentlemen, try not to kiss the front-office girl. Try not to throw up on the flowerbed, or on someone’s shoes. Don’t hit on all the girls from Marketing. Or Supplies. And if your boss’s wife shows up, steer clear of her. No overdramatic compliments about her dress and don’t turn into a waiter, running all over the place fetching her drink.

You will only look like you are kissing ass – besides it’s unlikely the boss will see your efforts and ask HR to review your salary.

It’s an exercise in futility because what will happen is that the next day, they will be discussing that party and the wife will ask him, “

Who was that cuddly, sweaty-palmed guy with a bad hat who was hiccupping a lot and trying to get me drunk?” And her husband, your boss, will laugh and say, “Oh, that’s just our accountant, Pato.” 

Calm your tits, Patrick. It’s just an office-party.  Good times, party people. Be safe.