You may remember my glee at developments surrounding the office Christmas Party. Things have however taken a further twist.
Our hideous ad campaign went live on Magic FM (such a travesty is it that I can't bear to reflect further). Following on from this Bjorn has decided to become best friends with them, in a typically whimsical and naive Bjorn fashion, as he genuinely believes developing the relationship to offer something to the business. I've actually come to the conclusion that the only reason he's just spanked tens of thousands on this hideous campaign is that nobody can ever measure its success and thus this is his first project that can't come back to bite him when it inevitably bombs.
I digress. As they're now so chummy, Bjorn is invited to the cash-squandering Magic FM Christmas party at Kensington Roof Gardens. It's no wonder it's a big event when they've got morons like Bjorn keeping the books ticking over. Bjorn has a +1 for the event (really, he doesn't get invited to things) and is quite excited about attending. And of course, with the office showpiece Trophy_Wife away, it falls to me to accompany him.
On paper, this has all the makings of a good 'un:
a) it's an afternoon event
b) the booze will flow freely
c) there are surely sufficient runners/researchers/finance chicks/marketing airheads attending to keep me entertained
and d) once I'm not sharing an office with him and have a drink in my hand, I actually have really quite a good laugh with Bjorn.
The problem: it is the afternoon prior to our evening party, the one that I am supposed to orchestrate. I don't have a hope in hell of ending the evening anything other than wankered, and if I manage to manage any element of it it will be a miracle.
This my friends, is a true recipe for disaster.
