Your co-workers get drunk then titter amongst themselves about “going outside for a smoke” and you discover that the forbidden “smoke” they crave is actually tobacco.
And the office Vegas crooner forces everyone to sit politely through his version of “White Christmas” because he’s a department manager.
And some drunken Australian manager recites his annual Christmas, poem, complete with staggering about and frequent anecdotes and asides that made no sense or bear little relation to said poetry. “‘Twas the night before Christmas and… Crikey! There’s some tight dresses on the girls here!”
And it sucks when you don’t win hockey tickets or a DVD player.