Commuting to the Christmas Party

0735 coach D (who needs wifi?). Special day today. No tie, just smart casual (fancy dress option not taken). The works Christmas party.

Having taken the opportunity yesterday for a pre-emptive hair crop at GHD in the village I am confident of a better fit for the festive paper hat. To be honest I am never quite sure about the Xmas party of the 'global, distributed' organisation. Whilst I can see the value and enjoyment of a gathering in a small local company or team, in companies like the one to which I belong these affairs can be as the Curate's Egg (which I possibly ordered as a starter?).

Virtual, near anonymous colleagues for most of the year, used normally to crackly webex conversations or grainy webcam interactions, are thrown together on a dimly lit table, or a sticky dance floor to exchange teamly pleasantries and, as liquid kicks in, to subconsciously (or semi-consciously?) out-do each other with ever more extravagant John Travolta-like moves. This year we're at the Tower of London. An interesting choice of venue given a year where the business have been seeing cuts in 'head count'! Is this (raven) black humour on behalf of someone in Corporate Communications? Or will the pre-dinner drinks reception include an announcement of further business reformation by a Henry VIII costume clad senior leader?

It's a soulless last, late, train back from Euston. Never mind, looking out the window at least I have the reflection of a party hat bedecked John Travolta look-a-like to keep me company!

Ed: The photo is not of the actually train used by the author but it does reflect the the sentiment expressed in the final sentence!