If You Have A History Of Embarrassing Yourself At Work Christmas Parties, Just Read These Stories

These are the cringiest work Christmas party stories we could get our hands on...


by Chemmie Squier |

If summer’s the time to get off your face at festivals then wake up with sun-stroke, Christmas is when you make an epic fool of yourself in front of colleagues and then hope that the dawning of a new year will erase their memories.

This article is proof that, sadly, this isn’t the case. Fuck up at your Christmas party, folks, and your colleagues will dine off it for years to come. Whether it's an ill-advised Christmas shag or a vomiting in a taxi story, you’ll become their dinner party anecdote or the story they wheel out when a journalist asks them if they know anyone who's had a work party shocker. Fuck up now and you will be immortalised, as this guys prove. Enjoy.

Lucy, 26, Writer

‘The CEO of the company was a fit, rich, divorced 40 year old. He had a good head of hair, wore red trousers, was very pervy on emails and had his own glass office. Obviously, me and my friends called him Daniel Cleaver.

The work Christmas party was fancy dress and me and my friend decided to go as “Christmas leftovers” and wear bin bags. Not my best look, but somehow I managed to pull the fit CEO and he came home with me.

Was he a good Christmas shag? Very, but he got really sweaty. Old age I guess.’

Mark, 27, Lawyer

‘It was my first Christmas party as an actual lawyer for a huge firm, but I was really new and junior so keen not to embarrass myself.

It was a free bar and I managed to not get too hammered though my boss did. She got so drunk she was running around pinching people and it got to the stage where the big dogs told me to take her home.

When I asked her where her home was she wouldn't tell me because she wanted to go to mine and sleep with me. After 20 minutes with an increasingly angry taxi driver waiting, I agreed to take her to mine and that she’d sleep in the sofa bed.

She tried to kiss me and I backed away then she vomited all over the taxi and my hired suit. I had to pay £100 damages. Then when I got home, I held her hair back as she vomited into the bath. I tucked her in, really worried as to how embarrassed she’d be the next day.

The next morning I woke up and she’d gone, but she’d shat herself on the sofa bed. When I got into work she’d moved to offices on a different floor and if I see her again I'll die.’

Tom, 24, Finance

‘It’s my second week at a finance company and it’s our Christmas social. At 12 noon, we chinned off our annual AGM and went and had a pretty posh three-course meal, which included around 10 bottles of wine, between roughly 12 attendees.

Over the course of the meal, wine, cocktails, pints, shots were all consumed and we racked up a bill upwards of £3,500.

Then we headed out to bar after bar after bar after bar and by this point everyone is absolutely slaughtered. Now, such is finance that a few guys are pretty keen on cocaine – some more so than others. One chap has £200 worth and has been going steadily through it since 8pm.

We get to 3am in the morning when I’m about to call it a day and I find the same guy on the side of the street, eyes rolled back into his head and not making much sense. He’d called an ambulance for himself which arrived and took him to hospital. Now at this point, I don’t even know my own name, but I had to ride along in the ambulance with another co-worker to look after our “friend” (who both of us have known for four weeks and two weeks respectively).’

At this point, Tom shows me a picture of the three of them with the ambulance, which ended up in the Bristol Post gallery depicting ‘Mad Friday’ in the city centre.

‘The picture is me telling my friend not to resist the paramedics as he tried to get out of the stretcher numerous times much to their frustration.

In terms of a Christmas party drama, that was pretty good. Of course, everyone at work found out but the cover of “a spiked drink” was never blown.’

Claire, 24, IT

‘So I turn up to the massive Christmas party which is black tie and bump into this guy that I know from uni who turns out is in a different department.

Obviously, there was heaps of bubbles and wine flowing and later in the night we end up hooking up. However, he then starts biting my lip, clearly in what he thinks is a saucy nibble, but it felt more like he was going to bite the thing off.

Knowing how hard it is to find a nice man in the city I persevere, stop and say, ‘Please, no teeth’ and give it another go, but he’s just as awful so I give up, realise half of my office has been watching, get a night bus home and get followed by some random dude.

I wake up on Saturday morning and my lips are deep purple! It got even worse on Sunday and then I had to work from home on Monday as I didn’t have a lipstick dark enough to cover it up.

I bumped into him in a bodypump class two months later and he was with his new girlfriend. FFS.’

Izzy, 28, Marketing

‘It was coming to the end of my three-month internship at a start-up with a small, young, close-knit team.

We were all pretty comfortable with each other and super excited to let off some steam, and things started well with flowing drinks. Shots were bought, colleagues pressed sherry on me, and long story short I woke up with a big hole in my memory, a taxi receipt I definitely couldn’t afford and a distinct feeling of dread.

Nobody really mentioned anything specific at work the next week, so I thought I’d got away with it. Until a colleague started ribbing me for “ruining his Uber rating” to the point that I had to privately Gchat him to ask him what on earth I had done (didn’t even remember getting in an Uber much less anything else).

Turns out I’d got into the Uber with half the team and informed the driver, ‘We don’t know who are you are, you could be anyone – you could be a rapist!’ and continued to ask him repeatedly if he was a rapist. As an English Lit grad and all-round feminist, I was MORTIFIED (still am actually). Amazingly, the company still offered me a full-time job a couple of weeks later, but it is by far my least proudest moment.

I would like to add that I do not condone ever accusing innocent men of being rapists and have never done such a thing before or since…’

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