The Office Party.
The office party had begun and started out quite proper,
a few anecdotes from the boss about his time as a copper,
gifts were shared amid lots of chatter and friendly banter,
and everyone cheered the fat guy from sales dressed as Santa.
The night wore on and the beer and wine flowed freely,
the guy from stores was in the carpark doing wheelies,
while the girls from reception were getting more revealing,
and all us guys laughed and sang about gettin' some "sexual healing".
Soon the ties were loosened and the buttons were lowered,
the arrogant jerk from procurement was in a corner all cowered,
while the boys from despatch showered him with wine and cake,
it was then that i decided i would make an early escape.
But the booze had other plans and unfortunately i was included,
i went from beer to bourbon i was so bloody deluded.
That wanker from the 10th floor was givin' me the eye,
bloody snobby nosed spooner just give it a try.
We both started swingin' but neither of us got hit,
just as well really cause i think im gonna be sick.
5 minutes later we became best of friends, arms interlinked,
around the dance floor we swung while we continued to drink.
Blurry images of hours pass by in my fragmented mind,
pictures of myself, jocks on my head leading a conga line,
a darkened stairwell and a multitude of fumbling hands,
of carousing in the streets and urinating on a taxi stand.
From beneath the sheets a sliver of light spills in for me to see,
my head is screaming it will explode and to leave it be.
But something weird is beside me pushing under the bed clothes,
Ohh my god i scream silently, "please not the girl from records".
It is at that moment, etched forever in my brain,
i've sworn i'll not touch a drop ever again,
for from beneath the sheets raising his head and giving a wink,
is the fat guy from sales who was dressed as St Nick.
(This is NOT based on a factual event)