Humbug
I use to write porn for a 24 hour text message service. I'm a man, but I'd pretend very convincingly to be a woman as I replied to men paying premium rate charges to text a woman that didn't exist in the hope that their feeble cocks would eventually see some daylight. Basically, I was fuelling their wank fantasies.

Christmas party day, they told me to man the computer. Whilst they ate, drank and were merry, I tossed about 500 men off, via the medium of SMS. Crying. Alone.
(pb4ugo2bed, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 14:56, Reply)

Working for the Co-op
means I get the stunning amount of one whole day off at Xmas.

I also have to work till 8 on Christmas Eve and till 6 on Boxing Day.

What do I get for this pleasure?

Well apart from aching joints and an utterly rubbish Christmas, I get....wait for it.....a bottle of Moscato.

£3.99 rats piss that wouldn't get you drunk even after about 100 bottles.

I gave my last years bottle to the tramp that lives outside the shop on a bench. As he peered at the label I heard him cry "Whassis shite you fuggin bastard" He then threw the bottle as far as he could and carried on drinking his Frosty Jack.

The Co-op......So ruddy cheap, even tramps won't drink their Xmas offerings.
Pah
( Scary Mary The D'oh Fairy, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 16:11, Reply)

My boss is making me work all through christmas.
The bitch is a proper slave driver and no doubt she'll have us doing all the usual chores of lugging heavy stuff around.

No christmas for me and certainly no christmas party! The pay is bloody terrible too!

Mind you, I am an ant...
( Spunkmeyer, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 17:39, Reply)

my earliest christmas memory
well, it's not exactly the office, but when i was in preschool, one day we all arrived to class to find that each of us had an unfrosted cupcake on our desk, and an assortment of festive frostings and sprinkles.

of course, being 3, we went ape-shit decorating these things (it must have been an awful mess to clean up). when we all had finished decorating them, the teacher came and collected them on a plate. when asked why we couldn't eat them, she replied:

"oh, these are for the bunnies"

next door there was a rabbit farm, and she told us that they were chrsitmas treats for the bunnies.

several years later i realized that the school had found a quick and easy way to get two dozen decorated cupcakes for their staff party.
(sponch!, Sat 18 Dec 2004, 18:54, Reply)

Tight Yank...
Last year our MD (American) paid for the first round of drinks at our Xmas party, costing a total of £64 and then, just before leaving, whispered to me to thank the staff for their hard word and then said that they should then buy their own drinks.

I was pretty pissed off at this, mainly because we'd had a great year and had earnt him TWO MILLION quid profit.

After he'd sneaked out I put my company credit card behind the bar and then went on to spunk up another £850 in booze.

The next day he found out and went balistic. I said that I was only following his instructions after he whispered to me "that I should buy the lads drinks for all of their hard work" - he denied this - but I said that because he had whispered to me in a very loud pub that's what I heard.

He then walked off and sulked for the rest of the day. Bloody tight-arsed Yank!
.
(SproutsAreEvil, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 17:29, Reply)

This takes me back... again...
In 1984 I was working in a shoemakers shop. Business was bad, so I dressed up as an elf and stayed up all night making the finest pair of shoes you have ever seen. We sold them the next day for £1,000,000 to the king of an African tribe. However, the soles wore through within a fortnight. The African king brought them back after he trod in a puddle, complaining that the soles were made out of chewed up tissue papaer and Bourneville chocolate. The boss (a pre-lost boys Keiffer Sutherland) told the African king to clear off as the shoes were sold as seen. It was at this point that he noticed that the shoes were a cut and shut.

The next day, he returned with his witch-doctor who started a ritual dance to put a curse on us. Luckily I was still dressed as an elf so I had a shot-gun with me. I carefully took aim, shouted "Look at me! I'm Michael Caine in Zulu!" and blew both their heads off.

We used their hides to make three more sets of shoes for elephants, which naturally sold instantly for a further £1,000,000 a set.

And what did I get for Christmas that year? Nothing. Not even a card. Mind you, a few days later I had raped, killed and eaten his wife.

Good days... good days...
( baldmonkey a frothy foul-smelling vaginal discharge, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 17:29, Reply)

Fat f*cking Nazi sales manager
As a young reporter in a small local office, I was the lone member of editorial team whose other members were located elsewhere in the country.
This meant that I had to sit amongst the nattering sales staff who were ruled by the iron fist of B*g V*l.
B*g V*l was one of those horrendous control freaks who would pounce on to her bloated feet and wobble at high speed out her office at the first sign of anyone actually enjoying their work, and command them to resume their bitter resentment of the position.
She had this idea that she was my boss too, but she had no authority over me whatsoever. I took great pride in this, and deliberately devoted a great deal of time to flaunting my immunity in her doughy face.
Her Christmas treat for the sales staff was to allow the radio to be turned on between 4 and 5pm, and each worker was given half a plastic cup of warm "Lambrusco Lite" (which is only slightly above Buckfast in the jakey drink stakes)as they worked.
The beast emerged from its lair as fast as its swollen trotters would carry the bulky frame, and in some foul gesture geared towards making an uneasy peace with me, held out a second half cup of the stagnant yak pish in its paw. I politely accepted and lobbed the stuff out the window.
The tight-arsed knotted-purse-stringed dragon hadn't noticed that I was openly sinking a six-pack at my desk while happily working away.
(Barry Subchimp, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 11:05, Reply)

I remember...
... one year we had a new Director arrive shortly before Xmas. I happened to be taking the minutes of a board meeting when he raised the question of what the usual procedure was regarding the forthcoming Office Christmas Lunch.

"Well, usually an advance raiding party leaves at around quarter past 11 and start getting the drinks in, then everyone else leaves at mid-day. Dinner's booked for 1pm"

"And what time does it all wind up?"

"Oh, usually at around 4"

"Very good... well, make it known that I don't expect people to come back to work then unless they want to, and certainly not if they're intoxicated"

(silence)

(whispers)

"Sir, I think you misunderstand. We're talking a.m. not p.m."
( Ptolemy the man with the silent pea, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 21:36, Reply)

Beat this...
We had a mask party and the best mask got a nice digital camera, fair play I hear you say...

But the CEO award the prize to himself due to him thinking his was best...he bought his for £2.00 from the newsagents.

Roll on him collecting the prize and about 3 people clapping...
( Donkey Gums @mattcomedy, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 15:16, Reply)

More Jessops fun...
When i worked for the Jessops store in Manchester they finally acquiesced to demand and took everyone out for the promised Christmas meal in Mid February.

They booked us into a Chinese buffet where the food was dry and tasted of cleaning fluid. Three of the staff got worms and we had to sit next to a hen party who each had a box labeled "fanny wipes" next to their drinks.
(mudflaps, Wed 22 Dec 2004, 16:33, Reply)

everyone seems to be posting their terrible xmas hours...
So check this out. Without telling me my boss has got me working xmas eve, boxing day, new years eve and new years day.
Not only that but its double shifts too.
Not only that but i work in a pub so i have to watch other people have a good time.
Not only that but ive worked out that my 'bonus' doesnt even come to double pay.
Not only that but the pub is really short staffed as many people are going home to see their families for xmas which means i have to do these shifts alone. (apparently because i still live with family i cant 'go see them for xmas'.

Tomorrow im planning on telling my boss i wont be in and he can go to hell. I'll update this if anything happens.

Edit: im fired
(Ash_Pow is now available in extra medium, Sun 19 Dec 2004, 23:03, Reply)

Exactly seven days ago...
I was involved in the organisation of our work party.

Total budget: £18000.
We managed to take over a hotel, have dinner for about 300 people and pay for DJ and balloons and stuff, leaving...
£13250 behind the bar.

I can't remember large sections of the night (although there is photographic evidence of what I was doing), and between the 300 guests we managed to drink all but about £750 of the bar tab... that's £42 per person AVERAGE. Stingy, no. But then about 100 people in my office are losing their jobs this year...
( Gizmo.mp3 does not exist, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 19:47, Reply)

SCUM
Last Friday my small 3-man department had a Xmas piss-up in the local pub with our £105. £35 each what our law firm give us.
Our fat pikey sh*tbag woman- repelling "Team Leader" decides that he wants to take his money home. Pikey. After several lines of Peruvian marching powder we confronted him and made him put the remainder of his wong in the whipjar and Fckoff off home to his slag missus.
That'll teach him to fart when I'm eating.
BAH HUMBUG!
(makavel1, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 17:52, Reply)

Scroogey staff
A couple of years ago, I took my team out for an Xmas dinner on a Friday night at a nice restaurant near London Bridge. Everyone was warned beforehand that they would be expected to pay for their booze - there is a seperate Xmas lunch for all staff where the booze is thrown in (and up).

Much food was eaten and many jugs of vodka & champagne cocktails were drunk, as was everyone at the table.

At the end of the evening, as I was aware that we'd got a bit carried away with the cocktails and that some team members earn much less than others but drink more, I decided to pay for it myself (I was as happy baby orangutaned as the rest of them). There was 12 of us and it was around 100 quid a head including the copious booze.

All I asked was that they put their hands in the pockets (or wallets or purses) for the tip for the very friendly and understanding waitressing staff.

Next day at work, the Monday, I discovered that the total tip was a 'generous' 30 quid.

One person complained that she'd had to pay for a taxi, which she felt was unfair as she hadn't planned to drink so much in the first place and otherwise could have caught the tube.

Someone else complained that, being tee-total, the others had received preferential treatment (this same person had previously complained of discrimination when I brought back some liquor truffles for the staff after an overseas trip).

One person said Thank you.

Last year I packed the ungrateful watermeloners off to the local boozer with a tenner a head.
(SpittyWoonerism, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 16:56, Reply)

The Shame
Not an office Christmas party, but I got roped into being Father Christmas for a kids Christmas party one year.

I thought I was doing really well, my "ho ho ho"s were loud and jolly, and I was interacting with the brats quite well.

And then afterwards, my friend took me to one side and said "Sorry, but the parents weren't very happy, they thought you sounded like a child molester".

"Why?"

"Well, you did keep saying 'Have you been a good little girl? Would you like to come and sit on my knee? What would you like me to give you for Christmas?'".

I don't know, some people are never satisfied....
(Steve The Monkey, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 14:42, Reply)

Christmas party
Me and my boss sitting in awkward silence in a pub. nice.
(eccentricman, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 14:22, Reply)

I swear this is true.
No-one ever believes me when I tell this story.

In the year 2000 I was working for a large multi-national, who's Xmas do was tied in to a 'fun' afternoon team-building exercise. We'd been told that for this we'd need to bring some old trainers to wear as posh party shoes would get ruined.

This isn't the unbelievable part btw.

Anyway, like someone who didn't really care about their job - I forgot my spare shoes so had to go via my Mom's house to pick them up on the way to the hotel for the do.

So I'm on my way to the hotel when I got stopped by the police and arrested on suspicion of armed robbery. I spend the afternoon in a cell before being released after a taped interview with a lawyer present.

The police's big evidence - I drove past the scene of the crime about ten minutes later and I fit the description of the criminal which was 'Young White Man in a Hat'.

Incredibly I'm back home in time to get ready and still make the evening do. Picturing the mayhem my non-appearance may have caused, I take a copy of my record of arrest with me so that they know I haven't been skiving.

I show up, see my then line-manager and she says 'Hi, are you enjoying yourself?'. And I say 'But I only just got here...'

Literally NO-ONE had noticed that I hadn't shown up. I quit a mere three years later.
(Sex Panther, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 12:45, Reply)

High Flying Electronic Aviation Suppliers...
In the early 90's, I worked for a "family owned" company that got itself some pretty big deals in aviation. The company was Lorded over by a right odd married couple, who would get everyone outside in a line on the last day and appear in a horse and carriage, with the poor MD dressed as Santa. They would then in a Dicken's style give each employee a frozen chicken and a bottle of pish. The ritual was ceased when, due to the 200 or so employees travelling straight to local drinking houses after the annual ceremony, they'd get pished and "forget" the frozen chickens when leaving for home. Several local pubs had to be fumigated every January when the chickens began to rot underneath the (usually heated) pub bench seating.
(b3tan generation, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 23:59, Reply)

Spleen venting time...
…twas nearly Christmas early 1990's and the boss told us all to finish up about 2 hours early for the work Christmas “party”. But whilst my colleagues consumed their modest ration of mince pies and Victoria Bitter, my boss sent me out to do the banking. Fair enough I thought – it needs doing and should only take 20 minutes or so. As I got out of my car at the bank I saw this bloke hitting a woman in the car park, so me and a Vietnamese guy from the next car decided to join in the melee (hitting the guy, not the woman). We both figured it was a domestic violence thing but it turns out he was robbing the payroll and petty cash she was carrying. We then both got rammed (albeit at low speed) by the thief's mate’s car resulting in the thief getting away – but with the petty cash bag only – and leaving me with a badly swollen knee and a bag containing the payroll for a fairly large local company. I rang my boss and explained I would be a couple of hours as the local police needed to interview me and the Vietnamese guy. On my return to work all the friggin’ mince pies and VB had gone and my boss approaches me and says “Don’t worry about the couple of hours off, you can make it up another time” – I naturally assumed he was joking but next pay packet he had docked me two hours pay due to “un-requested time off”. *WTF*?!* (This was a catalyst in my deciding to change careers – one of the best decisions I ever made.)

Even worse though was the fate of the Vietnamese guy who turned out to be an illegal immigrant and got deported. Poor bastard.

I should add that the company the girl worked for sent me a nice cheque via the police and also an invite for me and wifey to their Christmas party – which was a super wicked upmarket affair!
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 23:48, Reply)

Hmmm....
My boss is a complete and utter zeppelin. There's no Xmas party, no time off, no bonus... nothing!

But then again, I am self employed.
(the_hammerhead_tart -- In love with a strict machine, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 17:52, Reply)

Tight b*stards
I used to work for a computer company who moved all their staff christmas parties to July - because it was cheaper...

Now THAT is tight.
( Linbox has a serious dunk habit, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 14:49, Reply)

Good and bad.............
Used to work in a mental hospital set in spacious grounds. Xmas started about 4pm on xmas Eve when we shoved all the loonies we could into bed (with an extra dose of sleepies) and started the serious drinking.

Handheld wagons were used to transport goods around the grounds and by midnight they were piled up with bodies soaked in urine and sick. All staff of course.

My last memory of xmas 1975 is of our ward domestic, plastered, dressed in a soiled, tattered Santa suit, waving a bottle as the truck he was spreadeagled across gathered speed down the gentle but long slope towards the mortuary. Legend has it that he crashed through the front door shouting 'Merry Christmas!' but I'd passed out on the snow-covered lawn seconds before so I saw nothing.

Xmas 1976, I was at an armaments factory and morale was low at that noisy, grubby place, so a crowd of us went for a few drinks and came back leathered and wrecked the joint. Funnily enough, nobody lost their jobs. I reckon there was too much management fear thet we'd expose the crappy working conditions.

NHS general wards are crap to work on nowadays at xmas but we have wild nights out. For some reason landlords are understanding about customers fighting and barfing if they're nurses!
(A kind of wild justice, Tue 21 Dec 2004, 20:33, Reply)

Last Xmas
The boss took us all back to his place.

Made us sit in a hole in the cellar while he turned the garden hose on us & screamed "IT RUBS THE LOTION ON ITS SKIN!!"

Hoping for better this year.
(simon shitting mason, Sun 19 Dec 2004, 12:03, Reply)

Don't know if this counts
But my boss has systematically bum raped every member of staff since the beginning of December. I'll never forget the experience as he called me into his office to get my 'present'.........
(myohmy, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 16:38, Reply)

I'm going to wait...
...till (insert ludicrously non-Christmas date here) to post my reply.

It'd be too expensive at the moment, too many other people are doing it.
( jmptdc Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, Fri 17 Dec 2004, 11:40, Reply)

Christmas
My employer isnt so much a Scrooge but a Happines-Nazi control freak.

We have "organised" fun at Christmas, planned down to the last minute, with "manpower plans", "SMART obejectives" and a "post christmas review meeting" to "feed back" to the "centre" our "benefits and concerns" re; fun at Christmas.
And if you dont want to join in, heaven help you....
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 21:46, Reply)

We are going to our boss's tiny little house
and we all have to cough up £4 for the privilege. Sadly we are all so intrigued as to what kind of porn dungeon he lives in that we are actually going.
Plus there is suggestion of a dancing competition which could be quite horrifying.
(BadKittyDirtyKitty, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 19:45, Reply)

Gatecrashed the Co-op supermarket's Christmas party last year...
...I don't work there, but a mate does. Staggered in, thoroughly bladdered to see wrinklies dancing to Wham. We proceeded to get kicked out by my mates boss for singing Smiths' songs a tad too loud. And I stole a plastic snowman. A good time was had by all.
(Moo Lefty Drinking From His Own Udders since, Thu 16 Dec 2004, 15:46, Reply)

Xmas present...
...I received a Xmas card and a scratch and win ticket from a grateful patient. Working for a government department I had to declare the ticket as 'gifts, favors or monies recieved whilst on duty'. "No problem with your receiving the gift" said the senior officer I report to, "but you must understand that any winnings will belong to the department". He's right too, I looked it up just before scratching a modest win and substituting the ticket with a losing one and handing it in.
Ho ferkin'ho...

edit: I love my job and have great colleagues, but hate the ferkin' tards that pass for managers.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Tue 21 Dec 2004, 14:01, Reply)

Not my boss but
My mate is working on a building site with a bunch of other lads - to say thanks for being able to earn £5000 a week on the current job from these low paid boys their boss organized a big Christmas do in a restaurant/bar in a nearby town. He promised them a fine dinner, free booze and a minibus to take them all there and back.

What they actually got was:
£20 behind the bar
No free food - everyone paid for their own meal
Charged £10 each for the hire of the minibus.

A call put in to the coach hire people established that their boss actually made a £60 profit on the night by overcharging for the transport.
(LurkingBon Sleeping on the job, Mon 20 Dec 2004, 16:53, Reply)