Picture three or four giggling women entrenched by the punch bowl. They have mouths wide open and eyes expanded as if they just heard the funniest joke. Others stop to take a glance and find out what the ruckus is about. In another corner of the room, a couple of tipsy bachelors are staking out the territory, hoping some women will be so drunk that they need to be driven home. Do I smell sexual harassment? While the company president circles the room to shake hands personally with every employee, the office clown is standing in his way making wild gestures akin to ethnic dancing. Jane, an obese secretary, has just dropped a plate of food on someone’s plate. Yikes. It is the office beauty Kelly, and boy is she mad. She starts screaming as Jane breaks into tears.
When it is secret Santa time, gifts are ripped open and discarded without even a small thank you. Envelopes are passed containing Christmas bonuses. Now we hear some hoots and howls. Benny, the old timer in the group, wants to know what everyone has received and blurts out all the private information. Shut up and have another drink, suggests June, his co-worker in marketing. As she speaks, she bumps into Ted who is already reeling from over-imbibing. He falls over and collides with Chris, in her brand-new holiday dress, and spills his drink all over her. She is so mad that she aims a punch at his jaw. She misses and nails Howard, the mailroom boy. He spits out the food in his mouth. It found a home on Christ. She is crying hysterically at this point.
Santa Claus bursts into the room, amid the chaos, and starts doing his “ho ho ho” bit to an unlistening crowd. There are no kids to crawl into his lap so Sandra obliges. She immediately starts to unbutton his red velvet suit. She has the title of “office flirt” and shows why she has garnered it. After Santa is embarrassed and ready to move on, Sandra does a little strip tease to win him back. Then someone grabs the punch bowl and removes it from the room. It has served its purpose. It is time to go home.
People start scrambling to find designated drivers and some keys are lost in the shuffle. Carpools are arranged but there is some trepidation about who should be at the wheel. Let’s go to Stuffy’s, says Benny, a local bar. We can walk, they all yelled with glee. I don’t want to report what happened there.