The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party Part IV

DON'T BE WHACKY
or slutty, or wear fake tan or bad shoes or.....

Okay this is the last installment and in many respects it's just as important, maybe more important, than all the other wonderful life saving advice I have given you so far this week already.

There are two types of people when it comes to getting dressed for the big night out, those that do, and those that don't. Some people put the effort in and some people don't. Now I'm not saying that those who put the effort in are always the best dressed far from it. Some people can look great wrapped in a bin bag, some look like sweetie wrappers when they have spent hundreds of pounds on getting the right outfit. I have to declare that I have to put a suit load of effort into looking good. I change 5 times and inevitably end up with what I started with. It's the large tum tum you see. I'm never sure if I should try and conceal it or be proud of it. Saying that concealing it would be quite some feat. I would need some sort of magic shirt with cloaking capabilities. Anyway here is my sartorial advice for the big night out for what it's worth......

The WellDoneFillet Guide to not Looking Like a Blancmange, Serial Killer, or Lamb when you are in fact Mutton when You are out for your Office Christmas Party

Firstly it's your night out and you should want to feel relaxed and comfortable. The little Jimmy Choo shoes may look fabulous in the box but if your trotters are going to be mashed up and sore all night is it really worth it? Is it? At the same time it is great to get dressed up for a night out. But do it for yourself not for Brain/Jill in marketing in the vein hope that they see you looking a million dollars (not Canadian dollars I should add) and fall in love with you. Wear what makes you happy, with some obvious provisos. That said you are out in public, you are in a restaurant and we have some standards that must be met. So to that end all outfits made with velour are banned as are anything with a Nike/Adidas/Reebok logo. This isn't gym time.

Please, please, please go easy on the ol fake tan. I had a table of 10 ladies in my section last year and each one of them had fake tanned it to the max. It wasn't pretty. The women that opted for the heat lamp approach actually glowed not in a nice healthy way but in a radiation alert sort of way. It was like they had popped their heads into a nuclear reactor before coming out. The rest of the ladies resembled the famous Terracotta Army of the First Qin Emperor. They glowed too but it was a very patchy glow. This applies equally to both sexes as I notice some chaps are at it now too.

Now we all now you are only a young as you feel. And you may feel 18 when you are in fact 53, and that's fantastic. Saying that when I was 18 I was full of hormones, spots and teenage angst so I would really rather feel 35 than 18, well maybe not 35, 23 was good I liked being 23. But whilst you may feel 18 we all know you are 53. You cant pull off the mini skirt/cropped top look any more (sir), honest you cant. I don't say this to be cruel, I really don't. But please try and dress, if not your actual age, at least something from the same decade. This goes for the chaps too. Putting a gallon of your son's gel in your hair doesn't make you look any younger. In fact it makes you look exactly what you are, middle aged and desperate. And don't borrow his clothes either. He will hate you and more importantly you will hate yourself in the morning.

Wearing a t-shirt that says "Rebel" on it or some other shite slogan such as "Punk" or "Crazy" when you are in fact an accountant who has never done anything remotely rebellious save for stay out late one night when you were in university doesn't make you a rebel, a punk or crazy. It makes you look sad, and that's sad in a "I want to weep for" you sort of way. Please don't do it. If you want to look casual for the night just don't wear a tie with your nice M and S shirt. You will feel better for it and more relaxed. Don't wear whacky clothes. The ironic Hawaiian shirt in winter doesn't impress anyone. Santa hats are okay if you must jazz things up. But those hats with mistletoe hanging off them are sad and will make you look like a letch.

So there you are feeling fantastic, looking like something from Kay's Catalogue and you spot someone with the same outfit on. Don't for the love of Jesus get all upset and start crying and bitchy about it. It's no way for a man to act. Seriously though unless you had your outfit hand made by the orphaned children of a Parisian dress maker the chances are some one else will have been to Primark and picked the same outfit. Take comfort in the fact that you look better in it than they do. Try and avoid being in the toilets at the same time as them though. You know some people can be very cruel.

Then there is the office "weirdo", the kid that likes Radiohead and doesn't drink and always has his head in a book. He wants to look different. He wants his outfit to have people talking about him. He will say "It's just clothes man. It doesn't mean anything. You are all so self involved." and other such claptrap. But really he means, "I'm not one of you. I'm different. I like French movies." So he wears a blazer with badges on the lapel his mothers blouse, and skinny jeans and white converse shoes. And he probably spent an hour perfecting his hairs just out of bed look. He looks great, he feels great, then he spots 47 year old Gerry in accounting with the same outfit on and he sulks for the rest of the night and pulls a battered copy of an old Chomsky book and starts to read at the table. (In the hope that people notice him being weird again.) If there are one of these types at your table make him wear a party hat. There is nothing funnier than a emo kid in a party hat.

Slutty isn't sexy. God knows I've tried it, what with the backless cowboy chaps and other things. The only breasts I want to see on my tables are turkey breasts and even they are covered (in cranberry jus). Put them away, save that treat for later. I don't need to see your muffin top, your side boob, or anything else for that matter. Just cause Lindsey, Britney and Paris do it doesn't mean you have to, put your keks on! As for the lads, if I can count the hairs on your balls your jeans are too tight and you aren't impressing anyone. And from where I am standing it looks like you have a tennis ball down there Mr Inadequate.

It's winter, it's gonna be cold, chances are it's gonna rain. Bring a coat. Wow I sound like everyone's mother now. But seriously you and the entire population of Belfast/wherever are going to try and get a taxi home at the same time. You are going to be outside suffering the December weather for quite a while. Bring a coat, and maybe a scarf. You'll thank me for it.

I hope you all have a great night out. I hope you all enjoy the food and get great service (or the service you deserve) from your waiter. I hope none of you cry or go mental. I hope you look and feel fantastic. I hope the office groper leaves you alone. I hope you make it home safely, and with the one you want or back to the one you love. But mostly I hope you tip like millionaires.......

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party Part III

another Christmas fairy tale.....

This is the last installment of The WellDoneFillet guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party. After this you are on your own. This is without a doubt the most important section, it requires strict adherence and absolutely no deviation. If you fail to follow my advice on how to avoid the walking Kleenex that is the Christmas Crier or the bag of badgers that is the Christmas Mentalist I don't really care. On your own head be it. But if you fail to follow the advice (laws) listed below you are in danger, mortal danger. My patience wears easily in December, my attitude is borderline psychotic, and I haven't got time to pick the cranberries out of your gravy.

So if you want your meal to go well stick to the rules!!! And keep this in mind, the restaurant you booked in June for your Christmas party doesn't exist any more. It has been replaced by a turkey and ham factory. Chefs are now robots (drunk robots) and waiters are now a strange cross breed between school dinner ladies and army majors.

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Not Pissing the Waiter Off Causing Him To Spill Cranberry Jus over Your Nice New Suit/Dress

Be on time. I know you were working all day and have to go home and get your Simpsons Christmas tie/little black dress (size 16) on. I know this, but I don't care. If you are booked for 5pm be there for 5pm, not 4.45pm, not 5.15pm, 5pm on the button. Time is the one thing we don't have enough of at Christmas. There are sprouts and crackers to spare. Turkey is stored in every possible fridge. We have more Champagne than your average drug dealer. Time though is in short supply. We get 15 minutes between sittings to get our sections stripped down cleaned and reset. If you are late getting on to your table you fuck everything else up for the rest of the shift. If the first table is late then every other table is late there after. Not this year friends, not this year. The clock starts from the moment your table was booked. If you ain't eating I ain't waiting. If you are late and I have to rush you off in order to get the next table in on time don't get mouthy with me. You have been warned!!!

Remember what you ordered. This is a real pain in the fat waiters ass. It slows service down to the point where you have 4 waiters standing in the middle of a section with plates of food, that's not getting any hotter, whilst half drunk civil servants try to figure out wether they ordered the turkey or the beef. I know that you were ambushed in the office one day by the party organiser whilst you were working/on facebook. They stuffed the pre-order sheet under your nose and in the style of the VC soldier in The Deer Hunter shouted "Choose Choose You must choose." I know that you ticked the boxes beside your name without paying any real attention, you just wanted the excitable lady to go away. But now you must remember what you ordered. You must clear your mind of everything and focus. There are only five options, it really shouldn't be that hard. I'm not asking to to recite War and Peace just the 3 things you ordered for Christmas dinner. And no, you cant change your mind. If you take the beef but ordered the turkey don't be getting all bitchy and whiney when I take it off you and swap it for a cold portion of turkey with a dried up cranberry jus. Deal with it Mr No Memory. I thoroughly recommend that you print individual mini menus for each person in your party. It's a nice project for the office tea boy. If you want your food hot and accurate remember what you ordered.

For God sake you are 42 years old, act like it! You are in a restaurant not a Chuck E Cheese! It is not acceptable to shout and scream at the top of your voice. "Here, here Mickey, Mickey, Mickey here, pull my cracker big fella..." Good God it's so utterly depressing. It's also not acceptable to throw food at your mate on the other table. It's not acceptable to wolf whistle at the ladies. It's so very not acceptable to wolf whistle at me and my work colleagues. Although if you are wolf whistling at me you need to stop drinking. I know it is your Christmas party and you have worked hard all year blah blah blah but that is still no excuse to act like a 5 year old. When I come to your table with food you need to shut the fuck up for a minute so we can get your food to where it needs to go. Sit down and stay seated. It's very hard to navigate my way through the restaurant if you are leading a conga around my section. If you want a cigarette and God knows I will be needing one, go outside for one. The toilets don't count. Oh and if I bring your food and you aren't there I'm just gonna leave it. I don't have time to bring it back to the kitchen to get it re heated so suck it up smokey. Be warned if you act like a five year old I will treat you like a five year old. I have a naughty step too.....

Don't believe the whiskey adverts. Or the brandy ones either. The people in those adverts look cool and relaxed as they pour glass after glass of hard liquor down their necks. THEY ARE ACTORS! And they are probably drinking cold tea. You on the other hand are not an actor, you are a mid level bank employee and as such do not have the ability to drink large undiluted quantities of Bushmills, Jamesons, Hennessy, Stoli, or any other spirit. For the love of your liver, work colleagues, and me please don't do it. You will just ruin your night. Saying that once you leave the restaurant you can get as pickled as you want. Oh and if I catch you with booze in your handbag, man bag, or pocket I will chuck your cheap ass out.

And then there's the matter of the bill. Remember when you booked your table? Remember when I quoted all the prices? Remember when I asked you if were clear on all of that and you said yes? Good. So why are you bitching now? I told you there would be a service charge, I didn't "sneak" it on. Stop being a cheap SOB and pay the fucking bill. If you want to know why it's more than you budgeted for just ask the 3 drunk chaps over there with their ties round their heads. It ain't my problem. If there was a problem with the food or service (unlikely) trust me I will sort it for you, I will make the reduction when needed. And if you stiff me I will get you back. KARMA people KARMA. It's real and I have the power......So just pay, say thank you, and take you and your lovely work colleagues and go dance the night away to The Pogues and Kirsty McColl.

To summarise, arrive on time, remember what you ordered, don't get bladdered before the soup arrives, and pay the bill with good grace and don't be cheap. And when I ask you to leave I'm doing so to get my next table in, not because I didn't love you and your rendition of "The Fairy Tale of New York."

Christmas is the hardest time of the year for waiters. It's 14 hour days with little to no breaks. It's hard graft and very pressured. But you know what I can't wait........tis the season to be jolly....

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party Part II

Behind every Mike in HR lies a true
Christmas Mentalist

So we all know the joy that is the Christmas Crier, the bag of cats that is the Christmas Mentalist, the ball licking sycophant and the Christmas lothario who wants to do more than kiss under the mistletoe. There is nothing I can do to stop Christmas Party goers from doing a Jekyll and Hyde personality swap before the soup goes cold. But if you follow the WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party you should manage not to get your head caved in by the mentalist, spend 3 hours in the toilet rubbing the criers back, avoid getting shagged by the married rat and not get a written warning from the job worth. It's all in a handy cut and keep section I call,

The WellDoneFillet Guide to Surviving The Office Christmas Party
(Catchy eh)

Let's start with the CHRISTMAS MENTALIST. The mentalist is the person most likely to put you in hospital. Whilst annoying, the Christmas Crier wont stab you in the eye with a dessert fork or subject you to a spit filled tirade of abuse. The mentalist needs to be avoided at all costs. Spotting the mentalist is the key to your survival. As you sit at your table waiting for the waiter to bring you your Campari and Soda take a moment to look around the table. Don't stop to admire the lovely dresses and new ties look for the person with the 1000 yard stare. They wont look obvious at at first but look beyond the party hat. The Christmas Mentalist wont be talking to anyone but will probably be jittery, will spend about five minutes polishing their cutlery, and wont have taken their coat off despite having been in the restaurant for 45 minutes. That's your guy. Stay away from them. Make no eye contact. Do not buy them a drink, it's like feeding a gremlin after midnight, don't do it. Don't engage them in conversation, but should you find yourself in a situation were you have to talk to them keep it brief and general. Don't bring up any issues that are likely to set them off, for example promotions that they missed, in fact stay off all work related stuff. Stick to topics such as the weather, who will get the Christmas number one, and if they like "It's a Wonderful Life". The Mentalist is at their most threatening when they are on the move, much like hippos. Know where the mentalist is at all times and be somewhere else. And when the mentalist finally flips and the red crazy mist descends it's always good to have someone between you and the crazy person chucking the knives, preferably a new person so you don't feel too bad when they get split like a Twix bar. Avoid the mentalist at all costs. But you might want to bring some band aids with you just in case.

The CHRISTMAS CRIER can ruin your night, ruin it not with dessert forks or threats of physical violence but with tears and napkins and cry's of "No one loves me." Oh it's bad so very very bad, and sad. But how do you spot the Christmas Crier? Who's the one that you are going to spend the night in the toilet with? Identifying the Christmas Crier is so much easier than the Christmas Mentalist. They will have a track record of crying in public, most likely at your last staff outing and around any holidays of significance. You need to know these things before you sit down. Because once you sit beside the Christmas Crier you are stuck with them for the rest of the night. They will glue themselves to you like a limpet. Escape is futile and when they inevitably do break down you will be expected to go to the toilet with them and sit there for hours and rub their back and tell them everything is okay. The Christmas Crier is going to cry, you can't stop it. But you can delay it. Keep their alcohol consumption to the minimum, dilute their wine/vodka with water. Encourage them to drink lots of water. Avoid all conversations about relationships, family, pets, weight issues, and what's happening in the soaps. If anyone around you and the cry baby starts a conversation regarding these issues you need to jump in fast and change track quickly. Stick to dull matters such as cars, wallpaper, mobile phones and Adam Sandler movies. If you have avoided the Christmas Crier well done, now stay away. But if you have the Christmas Crier in their pre-Crying state you need to get rid of them and quick because like I already said they are going to lose it at some point. The best way is to attach and run. Move with the Christmas Crier to a another group of co-workers, start a conversation about relationships (that's the attach) and then make your excuses and run, run Forest run, and don't look back......

The CHRISTMAS HUMPER & THE CHRISTMAS DRUNK are quite often one in the same person. And like the Christmas Crier they will have form for both crimes. Think, who got drunk at the charity lunch quiz? Who smells of drink at 9 in the morning every morning? What happens when you get two drunks together? You get drunks humping. Look round the room for the guys and gals with their arm around the person beside them within five minutes of arrival. When the boss orders wine they will be the person that calls the waiter over and doubles it. They also arrived there an hour before everyone else. With their inhibitions lowered and senses dulled thanks to tequila and rum the Christmas Drunk starts putting the moves on. They start high but after ten rejections they will hump the bus boy or even you. You need to be strong and firm. There's no point in telling them you are in a relationship already that's nothing more than details/challenge to the horny drunk. Tell them that you would rather sleep with a rabid dog with herpes than put your tongue in their mouth. Do it loud, do it in front of everybody, and don't worry about their feelings, the person you work with is essentially dead and has been replaced with and walking horn. That warning is enough to put them off. They are drunk so expect some sort of nasty reply. You will most likely be called frigid/gay/straight/impotent. Still better to be called names than get chlamydia or herpes from the office skank (either male or female). Oh and watch for them turning into the Christmas Crier or Christmas Mentalist after. If all else fails make sure you bring condoms.

Secret Santa is a pile of cheap nasty poo. Don't get excited, keep your expectations low and you wont be disappointed. The Office Sycophant can be a problem. They normally don't get drunk and tend to remember everything that happens. They remember and will use it against you for another year. You can just try and avoid them but that isn't really a viable option as they are like cockroaches and just keep showing up. The best way to deal with them is to get them drunk, take photographs and then relax. Chances are they will turn into a mentalist or crier.
You have worked hard all year and are entitled to your night out as much as the rest of the space cadets and freaks that you work with. Don't let the bastards ruin your night. If all else fails get hammered, shag the office junior and then smash the place up........

It's what I used to do.....

(Tomorrow, How to help the waiter help you enjoy your Christmas night out. You will need to take notes)

Tis the season to be jolly (or cry, go mental, and try it on with the 19 year old office junior) Brilliant!

Happy Christmas

(you bastard)

It's five weeks to Christmas. Thirty five and a half days from now it will all be over for another year. I say 35 and a half because it's all over by tea-time really, isn't it? By then you are slumped in front of the TV jacked up on mince pies and Baileys watching the Vicar of Dibley wondering if it would be bad manners to go and check your email. (It is by the way.) That is of course if you were involved in the whole racket in the first place. Some people opt out of the Christmas thingy, conscientious objectors, if you will, of the Yuletide season. And I have no problem with them. The thing about Christmas is that you cant sit on the fence, you have to go for it at 1000mph with golden balls and twinkling lights or get the fuck out of the manger all together. There's no in between. But what cant be avoided is the Office's Christmas night out. That's were I come in.

Whilst it maybe 35 days to Christmas it's only 10 days to the start of the Christmas party season, can you feel it people can ya, can ya, eh eh? There is nothing better than having to go out on an all day bender with people you would normally cross the road to get away from. People you cant fucking stand because they are dull or they smell or because they grind on your tits for most of the year. Then you are expected to eat turkey and cranberry sauce with them. Not a fucking chance matey. Oh I see you, with your fake smiles, and air kissing, and the "oh you look fabulous" crap but moments later it's back to your clique and it's all whispering and dirty looks. You stink up my restaurant with your hypocrisy and cheap perfume/cologne.

Worse than the back biting and hate filled smiles are the sycophants and brown nosers. Manuel sees you too. They sit near the boss, normally facing them. They don't start eating until the boss starts eating. They order water if the boss orders water. They are non-committal on whether they are enjoying their meal until the boss says whether they are enjoying their sprout and chestnut risotto (which little man arse kisser ordered too despite originally ordering the turkey but switched because the boss was having the risotto.) If the boss ain't happy the suck-up goes into over drive, shouting and ranting and blaming the waiter. They demand everything be done to correct the problem, normally completely unreasonable demands like have the chef come down and kiss the bosses ring by way of an apology. Meanwhile whilst little man arse kisser is waiting to see the restaurant manager I am usually getting the problem sorted out and putting an end to the drama. These people are real ball busters.

And then there is the Secret Santa carry on. Tony from HR buys you a cats calendar and you got Sheila from Marketing a novelty mug which reads, "I'm a bitch." She laughs, you mean it. Oh the fucking horror of it all. Every year we end up with bags of unwanted "novelty" presents. Miniature tool kits, key rings, Bart Simpson socks, desk top skittles, Looney Tunes ties, miniature gum ball machines the list is as endless as it is painful. And they all get abandoned, either through drunken misadventure or because the recipient is offended with their Secret Santa tat. Saying that some people cling to their present like it was given to them by one of the 3 Wise men. There they are at closing time nursing their office golf set like it was their first born child despite being so drunk they don't even know their own name. Sad beyond words.

Then there is the Christmas crier. Awh bless them. Before the Yule Log and coffee is served there will be somebody crying their eyes out. There is one in every office at every party on every shift. They get dragged to the toilets by their co-workers, who later on will say they knew it was going to happen. There they are the four of them in one cubicle in the toilets all crying together because Tony/Jane in Sales hasn't noticed them or made a cruel joke. The first Christmas Crier last year was clocked within two hours of Christmas Service starting. I'm running a book this year, the first Christmas Crier, how many Christmas Criers, and the ratio of male to female Christmas Criers. I love the Christmas Crier, they make me feel like a normal well balanced individual by comparison. But they aren't the worst offenders. The Christmas Crier is the close relative of the Christmas Mentalist.

I absolutely love the Christmas Mentalist, as long as there are a number of doormen between me and the crazy bastard that is. The Christmas Mentalist, as the name suggests, loses the plot in the worst way. It's a combination of too much drink, which they cant handle, and a whole years resentment and hate bubbling under their Three Piece Suit. What makes the Christmas Mentalist such a fun character is that it's always the last person anyone in the office would suspect to be a grade A basket case. But we can spot them. They have a blank stare, and wear two watches and have manic hair. Their co-workers don't see the signs because they haven't seen him all year despite being in the same office. And that's normally the problem. We had one guy go absolutely stark raving bonkers a year or two ago. Tables and chairs were sent across the bar, followed by glasses, bottles, and the guy that brings the office mail. Oh yes he went daft. He was "escorted" out by three doormen who he decided to take on as well. He regretted that. He did it the year before at another restaurant. Crikey he must have a few issues.

nice

Ah I love the mentalist, especially when they set the Christmas Crier off who then sets of little man arse kisser. Office Christmas Parties are the best. They are a real leveler. The supposedly more professional the group the more they ridiculous they act. For example I had a table of school teachers last year that I had to tell off for throwing wet napkins at each other and shouting at the top of their voices. And then there was the table of lawyers that drank so much alcohol that one of the group actually shit themselves. They threatened to sue us for chucking them out, a suit that never arrived I should add. How do these people face each other again back at work? Married people trying it on with the office junior, the boss in tears, the mentalist, the super drunk, how?

Ten more days people, ten more days until the "normality" of my lovely little restaurant gets bastardised by filthy office parties. Oh the horror, oh the humanity, if it wasn't the most lucrative four weeks of the year I'd go out on the sick until it was over. So who are you, the mentalist, the crier, the lover, or the brown noser?

(Tomorrow, how to survive your office Christmas party)