Noonan at Noon

Noonan at Noon: The Holiday Christmas Party

Yuletide greetings my friends,

If we’re to believe the chirpy music that’s been pumped into our earholes since early-October, we are currently in the midst of the most wonderful time of the year.

And nowhere is this forced merriment more apparent/forced than the annual office holiday party.

Yes, ‘tis the season where you’re forced to hang out with your co-workers on a random Friday or Saturday night, because you haven’t spent enough time with them over the past 2,080 working hours of the year (and that’s assuming a normal 40-hour week, my fellow capitalist,…which hasn’t existed since 1955.) So grab some lukewarm cocktail shrimp and a way-too-tiny plate, it’s gonna be a long evening.

"You will make awkward small talk AND BY GOD YOU WILL LIKE IT."
“You will make awkward small talk AND BY GOD YOU WILL LIKE IT.”

Fortunately, the holiday party is the one time of year when the rusty gears of conversation that grind on between office departments can be liberally lubed with the WD-40 of booze. Let’s drink in the Christmas cheer.

Yes, we have the requisite beer and wine. But if your company really goes the extra mile maybe you’ll get any number of holiday themed cocktails. The hot-buttered rum. The hot toddy. And, of course, the punchbowl. Which is really just a silver trough of champagne, brandy, rum and regret.

Let’s not forget the cream king of wintertime. Normally, if you drink butter, eggs and heavy dairy, people look at you a bit strangely. But add the magic of bourbon and more bourbon, and suddenly you have yourself a merry little festivus in a moose-shaped glass.

Eggnog. Making co-workers and crazy cousins tolerable since forever.
Eggnog. Making co-workers and crazy cousins tolerable since forever.

Now a quick note on temperance my friends. It’s well and good to get jolly, but ‘tis not good to get fired. Watch that 4th cup of punch and mind the mistletoe. You don’t want to end up in a situation where you wake up wearing a dirty Santa suit, bits of stolen smoked salmon nestled in the matted strands of your fake beard, sitting on a bus heading to God knows where. We’ve all seen it happen.

Holiday party gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
Holiday party gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

Anyway, the days are short and this screed is going long. My best wishes to you, yours, and all your co-workers. Now let’s all go out and get in the holiday spirits. I recommend the top-shelf, as always.

Be Merry and be the Ball,

Noonan