When it comes to company holiday parties, nothing will ever hold a candle to my ad agency’s annual smackdown.  See, the median age at the agency is around 24.25 years old.  When I was in my mid-20’s, Xmas parties used to be all about drinking to excess and working the room.  Now that I’m settling in to my 30’s, it’s all about watching the younger crowd make complete fools of themselves.

Last night, I dressed up in my tux, stole a bottle of wine from behind the bar and settled in for a night of co-worker watching.  It’s a lot like people watching except that you’re forced to see these people again … usually about 40 hours a week.

Oh, the drama.  Oh, the mayhem.  Oh, the chaos.

Who would get drunk and have to be peeled off the dance floor lying in a pool of their own sick?  Who would get so schnookered they’d say something wildly inappropriate to the CEO?  Which unlucky bastard would bring a date that would go home with someone else?

Yes, ‘tis the season!

Last night, the fun unfolded.  Unfortunately, because I’m settling in to my 30’s, I was home and sound asleep by 11pm.  I missed a majority of the dirt.  I was privy to only a couple party fouls.  The account executive who nearly face planted in to the band’s speaker.  And then there was the poor soul who attempted slam dancing while wearing a poufy taffeta dress (teal no less!).  I certainly hope she was someone’s date … or sister.

I usually am asked to emcee the company party.  My blend of effusiveness and bitchiness has proven effective the last few years.  This year I had a smaller role, which allowed me to enjoy the party as opposed to shamelessly rehearsing my script in the small confines of the DJ booth.

Last night’s party was another mad-crazy success.  Everyone thoroughly enjoyed themselves.  From what I can tell, things were relatively quiet.  Apparently, Xmas miracles DO happen.  None of my co-workers messed up, threw up or hooked up.  Well, at least, not before 10:31pm, which is when I left.  The open bar ended at 10:30pm.

I’m no fool.