Christmas Party

5:10pm Monday 24th December 2007

With all the political correctness nowadays no-one holds a top Christmas party anymore.

No-one wants to offend anyone anymore and things have got a little boring.

Things were so lovely in days gone by. I loved the Christmas party. The banter, the way every thought I was an amazing dude and above all it was a night out.

My wife would always ask me where I was going and always get the same reply - Party'.

Can I come?' Women not allowed..' Why not?' Look do you want me lose my job? Now, stop talking rubbish and iron my shirt.' The only issue some people had was the fact I didn't drink.

Although that was never a problem for my friend. He loved to drink. It wasn't about fitting in - he just liked to get a little tipsy every now and then.

And the Christmas party was a great excuse to show everyone how British' he was. Funnily enough most people were like me and thought I was more British than him.

However, his antics would always cause people to ask me the million dollar question.

"So how come Jay drinks and you don't?' Is he a different kind of Muslim than you?' Hmmm...I didn't know what to say.

It was one extreme or the other. I sometimes got stuck with the guilt-tripper. Man he would make my hell.

He would come to the party all dressed-up and looked forward to it more than I did but then proceeded to moan all-night about how bad it was that he was there.

"Hey, I didn't tell you to come did I?' "Yes you did..you said you wanted some company in the Orange juice-only section." He always replied. I couldn't win.

These days the Christmas party is all about pleasing everyone. They all ask me if I would like Vegetarian food...whether we should have bacon butties within a five mile radius of the party and if Slade should really sing It's Christmas'.

Nowdays the only fun I ever get is when we go for a Christmas pub lunch. It knocked me for six at first.

I was used to either paying for the whole lot or not paying at all. But whenever I went with work lot' we would have to split everything equally.

One bloke even bought a calculator with him.

Once at a pub lunch I got screwed proper. Everyone had three pints each but I made my cola last a full three hour and twenty-two minutes. However, when it came to paying the bill one sly cow split everything eight ways.

Next time...I was ready. I ordered seven colas and four orange juices.

She didn't know what hit her.