14 Reasons I’m Not Going to the Company Christmas Party

1) First, thanks so much, HR department, for putting the cheap-assed color-copy of the invitation in my mailbox. It’s what I’ve been dreading for weeks. Not even my name on it. That so much shows how you care.

2) When I was single, and a couple times after I got married, I did attend these things. It was fun to get drunk and see others drunk and watch them dance on tables and make half-nekked fools of themselves. Now? Not so much. I can stay home with Sergei and get drunk and half-nekked and have a MUCH better time, thankyouverymuch.

3) The food? Uh…worse than airline food. I have to stand in line for cold meat and limp vegetables? No thanks. If I wanted that, I’d go to my kids’ elementary school and eat that slop.

4) You promise “camaraderie”. Y’know what? With my work friends, my “comrades”, if you will, if we hang out, it’s in one of our homes, with good people and good conversation. It’s NOT forced friendship. It’s NOT having to make small-talk with folks I have nothing in common with. Which leads me to…

5)…because you don’t have assigned seating, inevitably, the table I sit at (which starts out with people I know and like) becomes the table for Chatty Smelly Cathy and Big Dumb Drunken Lout Pete, and I don’t know them from adam and would really rather not hear about their hernia operation and their pending bankruptcy. There’s a reason they work on the other side of the building. Fool.

6) You also promise “fun”. You never deliver. Last time I went to one of these things was maybe 3 years ago. The only “fun” I had was a jello shot given to me by a friend who was also bored and needed a diversion. “Fun” is described in the dictionary, man, you should really look that shit up.

7) I still haven’t forgiven you for CHARGING employees to attending the party last year. That sucks. I don’t invite people to my house and then, as they walk in the door, shake them down for $20. Learn some etiquette, Jethro.

8) I won’t dance. Don’t ask me.

9) I’m not dressing up for y’all. I get to wear jeans to work every day if I want. I’m not spending money on a new spangly dressy-dress to wear once and have the company president spill whiskey and soda all down my cleavage. And the president and his libido, well, I don’t want that, either.

10) No door prizes, no games, no Christmas bonuses. THIS is what I work all year for?

11) Children are verboten at your party. That’s your right, I’m not begrudging you that, it’s a grownup party and I respect your decision. BUT. I’m not paying a babysitter $30 to watch my kids and have a good time with them while I’m having a bad time with you. Coppice?

12) You just sent out an email saying what bad financial straits we’re in now. Dontcha think, MAYBE, you’d have the sense to stop this party thing? I’d much rather we forgo the party and be able to keep our doors open through the end of the fiscal year. Dammitall.

13) Let’s see…the party is 30 minutes away, you get everyone liquored up, and push them out into their cars to drive home. Can you say, “Liability”???

14) My bed is big and soft. I’m soft. Sergei’s big. We have a cabinet full of liquor, a freezer full of food, and it takes 4.2 seconds to scurry upstairs for hot wet monkey sex. Do you REALLY think your party will tempt me away from that???


Have a good weekend, y’all!