The first rule of office holiday parties is you do not talk about work. The second rule of office holiday parties is you do not talk about work. Here is what you can and will talk about, while moving frequently to avoid the Office Bore:
Is it a coincidence that the big boss’ assistant is perceived as the hottest girl in the company? Conversely, does our company have a low hot-boy quotient when the hottest one at the party “looks kind of like Gary Sinise,” according to a coworker? (“Gary Sinise is kinda hot,” she added, not very convincingly.) Interestingly, the guy who kind of looked like Gary was hitting on the big boss’ assistant, which I guess is Natural Selection in action.
At the office holiday party, you may also discuss: Who will get hammered and make an ass of himself/herself? And: How late are you guys staying? (Yeah, we’re not staying very late, either.)
It wasn’t too bad, I guess. It was at a swanky, two-story suite on the 43rd floor of the Marriott Marquis on Times Square. The hors d’œuvres included soup dumplings, California rolls and miniature key-lime pies. The barmen had available Knob Creek bourbon and weren’t afraid to knock it into my glass. There was a billiard table, on the rails of which we were not allowed to rest said glasses. Afterwards we had dinner at John’s Pizzeria, which uses too much garlic in its pastas and appears to be located in a deconsecrated church.