LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE PARTY POOPER

Are you looking forward to the annual seasonal celebrations? OLIVER BENNETT isn’t – and gives some sound advice on how to get out of yours

SIX weeks ago I was invited to an office Christmas lunch – the kind of party that segues into a canapéand-wine-infused black hole where time, space and normality become suspended. At the time I blithely accepted. That’ll be fun, I thought. Now it’s tomorrow – and every fibre in my body is saying “no”. This is trepidation on stilts: the kind of pit-of-stomach feeling you get before you start “big school” or before a bungee jump.

I hope that doesn’t sound churlish. I’m pleased to be invited. As a self-employed writer, getting away from the desk is a good thing. And I really like this set of colleagues. But sorry, I really don’t want to go. Partly it is about the encroachment into my time and all the other things I have to do in the seasonal pile-up – and it is about avoiding the sense of lemming-like acceleration at this time of year.

Rather than find this seasonal change in pace exhilarating, I find it enervating and the stuff that comes with it depressing: those Pound Store plastic antlers that are semi-compulsory, the Secret Santa under-a-fiver tat, those psychedelic splodges where an office reveller has overdone it. I’m not sure I ever liked this stuff: now I hate it. I will cross the road to avoid anyone wearing LED flashing lights.

I don’t think I’m a puritanical anti-fun Scrooge figure. Just as some call New Year’s Eve an “amateurs night”, I believe that decent, proper fun can be had all year round, without being cramped in cattle-like pubs and restaurants decked with tinsel, where the only sober person is the world-weary council-employed bouncer and where the £35-a-heads are unreliably rounded up by waiters that hate you. There’s a limit to what I can now take. I don’t want to have to jostle at the bar with chaps in Christmas jumpers that call me “mate” in a jocular but hostile way. Nor do I want to hear the clarion call of the “Woo Girl”: the term deployed in the US to denote those women who yell “wooo!” at the tops of their voices to demonstrate how much fun they’re having. If this is Christmas heaven, give me hell.

As to parties in the office – they are worse. First, they never have proper glasses. Call me a snob but Prosecco from a plastic cup is not a good thing. Then there’s that sense of who will break first and leave early, or cry in the toilet.

Christmas parties bring out the worst in people and there’s always someone on that dreaded spin-cycle: dance, cry, flop, shout, dance etc.

I’ve never actually seen anyone photocopy their bottom. But I have seen a streak and someone else doing a selfie of their breasts and plenty of other ribald and silly things. In the age of Facebook Live and Instagram, there is a big problem with this.

It is one thing a few people you know seeing

AFTERMATH: Parties end with a sore head your bawdy gag: it is another if your festive behind is distributed to the world. There’s no What Happens On Tour Stays On Tour defence for a leaked WhatsApp of a Christmas party blunder. Moreover, Christmas parties can lead to real life problems, including legal action. People often don’t realise but they are still technically at work.

Delivering “home truths” to your boss won’t work, nor will your longheld grievance with accounts be properly handled in the hot-house of a Christmas bash. It’s official.

Nothing good comes from Christmas parties apart from sore heads, resentment and broken relationships. Such is the scale of the problem that employment wonks talk of the “HR hangover”. And an Aviva survey found that 2.3million don’t turn up for work the day after their office party, which costs the UK’s economy £216million.

But shouldn’t we go to Christmas parties for professional reasons, such as networking, bonding and building morale? According to recent research by event promoter Eventbrite, firms spend almost £1billion on parties each year, with an average of £42.48 per employee.

But there remains the possibility that after a fearsome mix of shots and wine, your career will be imperilled rather than enhanced. The national expert on workplace behaviour, the Advisory, Conciliation and Arbitration Service (Acas) says: “Employment laws apply even when a party takes place somewhere other than in the workplace.”

Yes, even if you agree to go on somewhere, you are still potentially bound by employment law. Are we having fun yet?

Don’t think I’m alone in my party fears. I’ve noticed a sense of seasonal avoidance creeping up among friends. The urge to have fun at Christmas parties is becoming ditched in favour of quiet reflection and positive experiences. Two friends take December 17 to 20 off each year and go to a spa. That is sensible. Corporations are starting to think so too and there’s a trend towards non-traditional themed Christmas parties such as knitting a Christmas jumper or going to karaoke bars, bowling alleys, or cooking meals together.

Also, I’m not alone in my distaste for compulsory fun. A survey says 37 per cent of us put “dancing at the Christmas party” as the number one Christmas party fear, while another survey found that so many of us hate office parties we’ll invent a “social sickie” to get out of them. Something like: “Sorry, I think I’m coming down with something.”

BABYSITTERS, children of any age, ageing relatives – these all become weapons of avoidance. Or you can pretend that you are still a bit of a raver by claiming that you went home for a “disco nap” – the recovery time between 6 to 8pm – and then claim to have fallen asleep.

Some are more robust and just don’t turn up. Others dust off the famous Peter Cook quote, after being asked to a dinner party at Sir David Frost’s house, where his table-mates were to include Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson. After a riffle through a diary, Cook said: “Oh dear. I find I’m watching television that night.”

As for me, perhaps it is my stage in life. I’ve done a lot of living and now I’m happy to be a party pooper. Then again, this is the era of mindfulness and quiet reflection. With the political landscape in turmoil – and the streets full of glitter and tears – I’d argue for more.