Home for the holidays

Party like you just don't care at this year's office Christmas do, writes Conrad Walters.

Do you feel you deserve a few days' extra leave during Christmas?
 
Would you like to have another week up the coast?

Well, the office Christmas party could be just the opportunity you've been looking for.
 
It has gin, tonic, ice and all the other ingredients you need to convince everyone you've been working hard. Way too hard . . .

Start by grabbing a drink or three and walking over to Howard from legal. He's the one who drags out the same tired plastic clown's nose every year to show everyone what a party guy he is.

Give the nose a tug and watch it snap back into his teeth.

"Oh," you say feigning surprise at the welt now emerging on Howard's mouth. "Sorry, mate."

Pat him good naturedly on the shoulder, friends as ever. Who could take offence? It's Christmas, old boy, good will to all.

Your next target is Caroline from accounts, the pedant who used Google Maps to knock back your taxi bill from Town Hall to Wynyard, saving the company a whopping $7.50.
 
She's clutching a glass of cranberry juice and wearing a string of pearls and a white skirt. Her evening needs livening up, so grab a fresh G&T.

Amble up and allow your icy glass to touch the exposed midriff of Amy, the marketing intern.

Watch as she cries out and collides with Caroline. Ever the caring colleague, rush over to ask if Amy's all right.

She should be struck dumb and unable to blame you for the purple flood dribbling down Caroline's dress.

"Now, now," you say, attempting to stem Caroline's tears. "No harm done. And the stain looks like Che Guevara!"

But there are bigger fish to fry. Over yonder is the CEO. His bonus could probably fund a thousand parties like this. With a distinct wobble, do a lap of the room, making sure to breathe boozy seasons greetings into the face of assorted colleagues.

Walk up to the bar where Alex from HR has just ordered a drink. Grab his glass, take a sip and then look surprised.

"Oops. Was this your glass?" Hold it out and ignore protestations that the drink is now yours.

"No, Alex, it's yours," you insist, pushing the glass into his waist because you both know that's where the alcohol's true destination is. After all, the throat is only a means to an end.

Ignore his objections, grab his hand and wrap his fingers around the glass.

"It's yours," you should say. "No, thanks," he'll reply tersely. "I insist," you continue.

The next thing you know, your boss will be there. Feeling the gaze of the chief executive and the rest of the room burning into his back, he'll hiss through clenched teeth: "Is there a problem?"

"No problem at all," you declare loudly. Now look carefully at the look he exchanges with Alex. Chances are the Christmas leave you dreamt of is on its way.

Published: 29 November 2008