Office Party Bingo: have you spotted the Wannabe Influencer or the Anti-Woke Warrior?

The festive bash is back this year, quite possibly with a vengence. Here are the types you may encounter - and wish to avoid
Three,Young,People,Having,Fun,And,Dancing,At,New,Year's
Shutterstock / Impact Photography
Martin Robinson13 December 2022

Life this Christmas has returned to normal — OK, there’s war, corruption, poverty, strikes, racism and protests but there’s no lockdowns, so that’s something — which means a return to ‘classic’ festive experiences like office parties. Always a compelling mix of soul-crushingly dull, profoundly awkward and borderline criminal, this year there is an added element of psycho-drama: put simply, people have been able to hide their true selves away for a couple of years now and are just raring to let it all hang out. This means your office party will need careful navigating. Here’s a guide to the types you may well be confronted with…

The bonkers bloke

Bonkers Bloke is a very unassuming member of the team — and he knows it. Which is why he’s going all out at the Christmas party to prove how much fun he is. Unfortunately for Jim, his idea of being fun seems to have been gleaned from children’s TV presenters in the Eighties. He wears a very loud Christmas jumper, does animal impresssions, pretends breadsticks are reindeer horns and puddings are breasts, and draws a penis on his manager’s suit jacket in chalk. Will spend all of the next year hiding from the rest of the office in shame, until the next Christmas party when he does it all over again.

The wannabe influencer

Wears a naked dress to the Christmas buffet in the function room above the Dog & Duck. Every movement, from raising a glass to reaching for a pork scratching, is held as if every second of the party is being photographed (which, to be fair, it is). When Dua Lipa comes on she’ll be surrounded on the dancefloor by a gaggle of Garys who cannot take their eyes off her except to WhatsApp their wives saying they’ll be late home. Of course, Wannabe Influencer will not be snogging any Gary, she’s actually deeply conservative and has been with her librarian fiancée Tim since primary school.

The unbelievably confident intern

Schooled at Westminster and the nephew of a Viscount, he can afford to be an intern until he’s 36 — and doesn’t he know it? Spends most of the night telling the CEO where he’s going wrong, and speaks to everyone else with the pitying tone of someone forced to socialise with a lower species. He drinks only sparkling water, bothers everyone for drugs and secretly steals cutlery.

The one cool person

Oli is non-binary, ultra-chic and has cheekbones so sharp they resemble a glittering cactus. Grab a selfie with them before they head to Chiltern Firehouse to be with their real, genuinely A-list mates. Later claim that you went there too, even though you have cheekbones so non-existent that your face resembles a naan bread.

Photo,Of,Crowd,Of,Working,People,Engaged,In,Business,Having
Shutterstock / Roman Samborskyi

The surprisingly fun C-suiter

Nobody has seen this guy before as he’s so high up in the company. Oddly, he’s the first person up on the dancefloor, can do The Worm, and upon further questioning he reveals he was a leading breakdancer on the New York hip-hop scene in the Eighties and used to go out with Madonna. You develop a genuinely warm bond on the night, and are convinced he’s going to give you a promotion. Will subsequently ghost you big time.

The dark horse

Stuart doesn’t say a word at the office, brings his lunch in a carrier bag and twice a year will secretly spot and fix admin errors which prevent the firm closing down. At the party, after one glass of rosé, he turns into a stunning mix of George Raft and Gore Vidal, and quips his way into a post-party orgy with three waiters.

The performative polyamorist

Belinda spends half the night showing everyone all the people she’s slept with on Feeld and the rest of the night trying to sleep with all the happily married people at the party. Is highly likely to take her clothes off on the dancefloor if attention slips from her, but then will suddenly disappear when her Feeld alert tells her ‘Kinkycouple47’ will order an Uber to get her to Croydon.

The controlling bro

Spent all morning sculpting his designer stubble, did a two-hour arm session at lunchtime and watched a motivational video to help him “succeed like a true Alpha” at the informal drinks and nibbles. His clothes are so tight they’re subcutaneous, he drinks Lucky Saint non-alcoholic beer, only eats the protein on his plate, smokes a corner-shop cigar and wears sunglasses; tragically for him, this means he’s destined to slip over in front of everyone, providing the evening’s one viral clip moment.

The ‘chip on the shoulder’ timebomb

Snubbed for a promotion, this person spends the evening watching the fun with a hollow smile. No-one dare ask them how they are, so they’re left to fester until they drink themselves to the point of violence. Will get a singing carp in the Secret Santa and won’t be able to turn it off.

The anti-woke warrior

This mutterer just wants it to be like the old days when you could be a bit ‘fruity’ with your opinions, and give a hearty slap to the flanks of any passing woman. Spots woke conspiracies in the choice of vegetables and the lack of Christmas jumpers on show. Apoplectic when the censored verson of Fairytale in New York plays. When the quiz starts, he’s fine — and promptly buys everyone drinks.

The Covid bore

Slathered head-to-toe in sanitiser liquid like a paranoid Las Vegas stripper, Benny will sit next to you at the lunch and tell you in detail about how his Covid ‘journey’ evolved day by day. Even though he says he’s no longer infectious, he clearly is and actually wants to be. Before Covid, he had nothing, but now he is somebody. Covid chose him.

The Netflix bore

All they have done this year is watch TV and it’s now becoming depressingly clear. “Have you seen…?” “If you think that’s good…” “There is a season two, yes…” and on it goes. About halfway through the evening they’ll dry up, look haunted, then dump their boyfriend on WhatsApp, sign up to Feeld and disappear for three weeks.

Self,Portrait,Of,Mixed,Race,Friends,:,African,,American,,Asian,
Shutterstock / Roman Samborskyi

The heavy news reminder

This person’s sole objective is to score points by bringing up abuse and torture by foreign regimes the second anyone looks like they’re having fun. “Jokes?” he’ll say, “If only the bodies in the mass graves could make jokes.”

The (mid)life and soul

Twenty years ago they were a big hit at a Christmas party and so every year this person is determined to be a hit again, but with ever-decreasing returns. They get everyone up to dance, make lewd jokes and have a Christmas party laugh that sounds like two chainsaws dropped in a pool. Still by far the most fun person there, until they over-exhuberantly try drugs for the first time in ten years and vomit on the Managing Director.

The post-punk warrior

An intensely boring figure in the office, he’s desperate to show off how edgy he is. Wears a beanie inside, drinks IPA out of cans and calls everyone “sell-outs” behind their backs. Entirely without a sense of humour, his ‘jokes’ consist of endless variations of egomaniac pseudo self-critical fictions about his own edginess: “Christ, like, imagine if I was in charge of this party – how would this lot dance to Minor Threat?” “Ugh, imagine if I had a dog, I’d probably call it Dostoyevsky”, “Like, imagine if I ever talked to a girl, they’d probably be so turned off by my anarcho-Marxism.”

The organiser

The one person who actually does any of the organisational side, and who realises that she’s effectively dealing with a toddler’s birthday party and has to make sure no-one dies. She can’t enjoy one second of the event because she’s having to field questions from staff about where they’re sitting, when the food is coming, what happens if you spill wine on yourself, where the bathroom is, how can they get home, why does no-one love them etc. etc.

The middle-aged wannabe influencer

This guy has been through a divorce but is getting through it by building his profile on TikTok. He livestreams the Christmas dinner and introduces everyone he meets to his 64 followers: “Yo, this is Nick from Systems Outreach, and he is insane…ah, you do actually have bipolar? Sorry, pal.” The man cannot stop doing impressions of The Rock, he tries revolting sexy dancing with the office junior, and because he’s ordering shots every five seconds he’s the first one packed off home in a cab, where his livestream ends in a rant against his old PE teacher for “making me this way.

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