A YEAR of simmering flirtation, suggestive Slack messages and provocatively reloaded printers spectacularly detonated last night at the Wexford Consulting Christmas event.
Survivors reported the impact of free prosecco on bloodstreams only accustomed to a light lunch unleashed 12 months of hungover Tuesday erections and bored mid-meeting fantasies, culminating in a sex-crazed bacchanal at a Brentwood bowling alley.
Digital alignment co-ordinator Tom Booker said: “It was like Eyes Wide Shut on a mixed use retail/hospitality estate by a ringroad.
“All the repressed desires – Grace bending over, Gareth’s tank top phase, Chloe’s anecdote about water aerobics – burst forth in a riotous flood of festive lust. Turns out paper hats and a DJ playing SexyBack, and Gareth from audit becomes Caligula.
“Doran and Amelia – of ‘we’re just friends, we just have lunch together’ – were rutting in an alcove. Jo from HR was waiting her turn for each of them. I was going down on Carly from sale, who has a minge so comely I wish I could mention it in her performance review.
“And the buffet? I didn’t realise Harry from operations would be the sushi platter, and I’m afraid I made quite a pig of myself. At one point there were three of us tonguing his balls. He’s a promising young man.”
Workplace psychologist Helen Archer said: “The Christmas party exists not to celebrate a year of productivity, but to make employees so divided and ashamed they’re incapable of confronting management for another 12 months.”
