Christmas 'works do's'
Moderator: Zulus Thousand of em
Christmas 'works do's'
The office party season is about to be unleashed, which means once again people making complete d**ks of themselves after too much alcohol.
I've always managed to avoid trouble but have seen employers put on free bars which have usually descended into vandalism and fighting. No experience of any hanky panky between people that shouldn't be up to that kind of thing, though.
What stories do people have of their Christmas 'works do's'??
I've always managed to avoid trouble but have seen employers put on free bars which have usually descended into vandalism and fighting. No experience of any hanky panky between people that shouldn't be up to that kind of thing, though.
What stories do people have of their Christmas 'works do's'??
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My first proper job was for a concstruction company on Higher Swan Lane, Wm. Townson and Sons.
On the las day before the Christmas shutdown, they took us out to the local pub which had a bowling green out back. The Sunnyside? possibly?
Anyway, I got so pissed at lunchtime I carried a full pint of Guiness back to my desk and fell asleep with it un-drunk.
About 3 O'clock I was shaken awake and told to go home.
I decided to neck the pint and then leave. Unfortunately the (by now) warm guinness hit my stomach and decided to leave instantly. Cue a red/black technicolour yawn all over November's Good's received forms.
I crawled out of the office on all fours and was half-way up the corridor when my downcast eyes met a pair of shoes. I looked up into the face of the CEO and then threw up all over his feet.
Happy days. I lasted another year and was then 'made redundant' in the first cuts. Wonder why?
On the las day before the Christmas shutdown, they took us out to the local pub which had a bowling green out back. The Sunnyside? possibly?
Anyway, I got so pissed at lunchtime I carried a full pint of Guiness back to my desk and fell asleep with it un-drunk.
About 3 O'clock I was shaken awake and told to go home.
I decided to neck the pint and then leave. Unfortunately the (by now) warm guinness hit my stomach and decided to leave instantly. Cue a red/black technicolour yawn all over November's Good's received forms.
I crawled out of the office on all fours and was half-way up the corridor when my downcast eyes met a pair of shoes. I looked up into the face of the CEO and then threw up all over his feet.
Happy days. I lasted another year and was then 'made redundant' in the first cuts. Wonder why?
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Got our office do at Haydock Thistle on Saturday, worked at the same place for four years but only been to one previously - no fighting and no hanky panky, usually, but I think the fighting is usually avoided because the group tends to divide in it's cliques by the time the turkey is brought round.
I'm just planning on sitting at the bar and getting slowly leathered.
I'm just planning on sitting at the bar and getting slowly leathered.
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Ours has to be better than last year. It was held in the hotel than occupies the old Heriot-Watt Electrical Engineering building in Edinburgh (classy!) and there was a queue 30 deep just to get in the door.
About a dozen other works parties were taking place there, so you can imagine that inevitably, amid the chaos, the food was somewhat crap, yet mine surpassed even those low standards. I made the mistake of pre-ordering (probably sometime around September the year before) the vegetarian option on account of the number of leathery slabs I've had over the years that have purported to be meat. What I got can only be described as a crunchy cous-cous flan - the crunch coming from the fact the cous-cous wasn't cooked (or had dried out some days earlier). I think there was the odd hint of roasted Mediterranean vegetables in there somewhere but I hadn't patience or inclination to find out.
The post-prandial festivities turned out to be a shared disco with the Bank of Scotland - whoopy-do! (I don't suppose that lot will be able to afford to splash out on anything quite so grand this year- ha-ha!) Bored rather than pissed out of my skull, I tried to get a taxi home only to find I had to walk the 3 miles back.
And to think the powers that be were lazily going to book the same place this year until someone remined them what a bag of shite it had been.
About a dozen other works parties were taking place there, so you can imagine that inevitably, amid the chaos, the food was somewhat crap, yet mine surpassed even those low standards. I made the mistake of pre-ordering (probably sometime around September the year before) the vegetarian option on account of the number of leathery slabs I've had over the years that have purported to be meat. What I got can only be described as a crunchy cous-cous flan - the crunch coming from the fact the cous-cous wasn't cooked (or had dried out some days earlier). I think there was the odd hint of roasted Mediterranean vegetables in there somewhere but I hadn't patience or inclination to find out.
The post-prandial festivities turned out to be a shared disco with the Bank of Scotland - whoopy-do! (I don't suppose that lot will be able to afford to splash out on anything quite so grand this year- ha-ha!) Bored rather than pissed out of my skull, I tried to get a taxi home only to find I had to walk the 3 miles back.
And to think the powers that be were lazily going to book the same place this year until someone remined them what a bag of shite it had been.
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In contrast to LGM my best Christmas do was in Edinburgh in a room above the Playhouse. They announced beforehand that there would be a free bar up until the meal began, so everyone threw down as much as they could before then.
We didn't pay for anything after then though. Someone at our table found out that one of the directors had a tab, so we continued to order and told the bar staff to 'put in on Georges tab'. They were more than happy to oblige, especially as we tipped generously.
We didn't pay for anything after then though. Someone at our table found out that one of the directors had a tab, so we continued to order and told the bar staff to 'put in on Georges tab'. They were more than happy to oblige, especially as we tipped generously.
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Avoid em like the plague these days. Little cliques all calling the shxt out of each other and beaming crocodile smiles whilst they do it. Others all patting each other on the backs and the ladder climbers all hanging around the boss and guffawing at his every word. . And then there's the dance floor and the David Brett wannabees. Nah, I'll pass thanks.
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ensure you have plenty of cash to hand then, considering it's a thistle (which i have been to fwiw)Leyther_Matt wrote:Got our office do at Haydock Thistle on Saturday, worked at the same place for four years but only been to one previously - no fighting and no hanky panky, usually, but I think the fighting is usually avoided because the group tends to divide in it's cliques by the time the turkey is brought round.
I'm just planning on sitting at the bar and getting slowly leathered.
unless its all paid for, in which case, bleed the f*ckers dry
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The Playhouse? I'm sure that's at the heart of Edinburgh's 'pink triangle' these days.
As far as Christmas bashes go I can't recall a really good one since I've been living up here. The first one I went to was at a shared venue in an airport hotel in Dyce, Aberdeen. The rest of the other companies were from the offshore oil industry. You could tell we weren't because we didn't set fire to our table decorations (at least not till the end).
The worst food over the years (but only just) was in a freezing marquee in the grounds of a pseudo-stately home. The desert was creme brulee. If you had enough determination to hack through the incinerated demerara permacrust, you were rewarded with a thick layer of cold mincemeat. I only went to that one because we were promised a whisky bar - turned out to be a wallpapering table with one bottle of Macallan.
As far as Christmas bashes go I can't recall a really good one since I've been living up here. The first one I went to was at a shared venue in an airport hotel in Dyce, Aberdeen. The rest of the other companies were from the offshore oil industry. You could tell we weren't because we didn't set fire to our table decorations (at least not till the end).
The worst food over the years (but only just) was in a freezing marquee in the grounds of a pseudo-stately home. The desert was creme brulee. If you had enough determination to hack through the incinerated demerara permacrust, you were rewarded with a thick layer of cold mincemeat. I only went to that one because we were promised a whisky bar - turned out to be a wallpapering table with one bottle of Macallan.
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got off with a lass i worked with, left early with her, got caught in flagrante by the rozzers in the passenger seat of her car in a town centre car park. god i'm classy.
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kevin nolan is so fat, that when he sits around the house he sits around the house
kevin nolan is so fat, that when he sits around the house he sits around the house
Officer. Gentleman, and god honest hero. You have soared in my rankings my man,communistworkethic wrote:got off with a lass i worked with, left early with her, got caught in flagrante by the rozzers in the passenger seat of her car in a town centre car park. god i'm classy.
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Be more kind, my friends, try to be more kind.
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We have ours every year in the Platinum Suite at the Reebok.
God Awfull affair with Management having unlimited free drinks, and us other workers given four free drinks.
Us shop floor workers just go to screw the company for anything we can get out of it.
Funny thing is that Management seem to think that we are all one big happy family.
God Awfull affair with Management having unlimited free drinks, and us other workers given four free drinks.
Us shop floor workers just go to screw the company for anything we can get out of it.
Funny thing is that Management seem to think that we are all one big happy family.
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Jeez. They're always carnage (well, all the Christmas do's I've been on).
The last one I went to, with the writing job I do, was a couple of years ago when London was hit by those reasonably high winds (I say 'reasonably', all the London lot were weeping about the end of the world... mind you, a house did blow down that day). They'd stuck a couple of grand behind the bar and because I intended to get home the same day, I got stuck in and was arseholed by 4pm.
Went to catch the train and all the trains had been cancelled because of the high speed winds, so I went back to the pub, called the CEO of the company a naughty word beginning with 'C' and tapped off with a fellow writer back at her house. I'll never know how I managed it seeing as was calling anyone with even the slightest cockney accent a variety of abusive names.
The last one I went to, with the writing job I do, was a couple of years ago when London was hit by those reasonably high winds (I say 'reasonably', all the London lot were weeping about the end of the world... mind you, a house did blow down that day). They'd stuck a couple of grand behind the bar and because I intended to get home the same day, I got stuck in and was arseholed by 4pm.
Went to catch the train and all the trains had been cancelled because of the high speed winds, so I went back to the pub, called the CEO of the company a naughty word beginning with 'C' and tapped off with a fellow writer back at her house. I'll never know how I managed it seeing as was calling anyone with even the slightest cockney accent a variety of abusive names.
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