Don’t use the end-of-year festivities as an excuse for unsolicited public nudity or to release 12 months of pent-up advice you’re itching to deliver your manager.
We get it, shelling out $50 on a naff costume for the privilege of clinking a glass with a bunch of people you’ve never said more than ‘How’s it going?’ to since the last Christmas party isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. But skipping the bash altogether not only wastes a great networking opportunity, it makes you look antisocial and unappreciative and reeks of a bad attitude towards being part of the team.
Don’t drink too much
Normally you can hardly spot that microscopic ‘drink responsibly’ logo hidden on your beer bottle’s label — but at your Christmas party, that message is the golden rule. An open bar isn’t a personal challenge to consume enough alcohol to tranquillise a baby elephant then go on a rampage that would make a rugby league player blush, unless you feel like becoming the subject of 12 months of jokes around the office . . . or worse, the subject of a HR investigation into that puddle of vomit on the dance floor.
Keep it in your pants
If you’re taking off anything more than your jacket, you’re sailing into some very dangerous waters. Your work colleagues aren’t the ideal audience for that time-honoured Australian tradition of nuding up, and if the mistletoe is getting you in an amorous mood, any inappropriate ‘sitting on Santa’s lap’ could also be followed by an unwanted date with HR.
And do the same with your opinions
You might harbour particularly strong thoughts on the CEO’s performance throughout the year or the American election or the tomato chutney on the hors d’oeuvres, but forcefully expressing them after a few schooners of stupid soup is a recipe for conflict. The same with anything too personal — the Christmas party isn’t the time to ensnare some unsuspecting victim into a 45-minute cathartic outpouring about your ugly break-up last May. Don’t let the booze turn you into an obnoxious bore that everyone in the room tries to avoid like the Zika virus.
Know when to declare
The moment you find yourself ordering slippery nipples with Susan from accounts or sucking tequila out of the CFO’s belly button, it’s probably about time to book that Uber home.