It’s just about time for your company Christmas party.

Whoops, sorry. I must be politically correct and bow down to the establishment for just a second.

It’s just about time for the End of the Year Celebration sponsored by your company.

No matter where you work, the stories from these events stick around forever; like the one about a certain Philadelphia news anchor and a gerbil.

So in order to make sure you don’t end up an entry on Snopes.com, I’ve compiled a five point guide to Company Christmas Party Etiquette.

Don’t suck up to the boss.
Come on, some of you do it waaaaaay too much already (you know who you are) and where has it gotten you? Getting trashed then telling the boss that his tie is amazing and his wife is killer ain’t gonna get you that promotion you’ve been kissing ass for all year.

Don’t hit on the receptionist.
You may do it in the copy room when nobody is looking, but hold on big gunner, this isn’t the time or place. Just because she had a few Johnny Walker’s and she thinks that you suddenly look just like Brad Pitt doesn’t mean the bases are loaded and you’re at bat.

If you don’t drink, don’t start tonight.
Your company Christmas party isn’t the place to try your first vodka and tonic – with or without the lime. Chances are if you’re not a drinker, you’re going to be on your ass and on Facebook before the vomiting starts.

If you can’t dance, sit this one out.
A certain Seinfeld episode comes to mind here. Granted we’re not all contestants on Dancing with the Stars, but if you’re as light on your feet as a hippo, save yourself the embarrassment and yet another Facebook post.

Video everything.
Ok, maybe not everything. But with all that’s bound to happen at an event where booze is involved, having the cell phone ready to capture those memorable moments makes for great blackmail later on.

And just because you’ve made it this far, I’m going to provide you with a bonus tip.

Have fun!
It’s a time to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year with your co-workers. Enjoy yourself and be responsible. If you’ve had a little too much to drink, call a cab. Or better yet, arrange for a few designated drivers before hand. A safe holiday makes for a happy holiday!

Got some tips of your own…. do share!

What have we become as a society?

Seriously.

I’m sitting here tonight and my cell phone rings, and the conversation went something like this:

Me: “Hello.”

Him: “Hi, how are you?”

Me: “Good, what did you do tonight?”

Him: “Can I call you back?”

Me: “I guess so,”

So I sit here waiting about three minutes and no call back, so I call him.

Me: “Um, did you want me?”

Him: “Yes, can I call you back?”

Sorry dude, you just struck out. Don’t call me and waste my time with this nonsense. I didn’t call you, have the courtesy of finishing your conversation with me before taking a call from someone else.

Dude! Nice ass!

I am beginning to think that as a society we have lost all respect for each other and manners and proper etiquette have been lost forever. Take today’s teenagers, or as I like to call them, street thugs and mall rats. They wear their pants halfway down their legs with their underwear hanging out and think this is acceptable dress. They drop the f-bomb more than I do in a day and have no respect for themselves or others around them who have to endure with their lurid behavior.

I come from a time where when you enter a building, you take your hat off. When you go out for dinner, you dress appropriately. When you’re at a table and a lady gets up to powder her nose, you stand up. You hold the door open for the person behind you and ladies go first. Sweat pants aren’t business casual and Megadeath t-shirts aren’t for casual Fridays.

As technology evolved and cell phones became mainstream, the lack of respect took a new turn. Now its perfectly acceptable to treat your dinner companions to your conversation when your phone rings. Turn signal levers should be taken out of cars, because you can’t steer with your right hand, hold the phone in your left, and signal a turn at the same time. I usually express my disdain with the turn-signal-less drivers with a blast of the horn. If you’re at dinner with me and your phone rings, I tell you to leave the table. And don’t think you’re going to break bread with me with a hat on.

I consider myself to be polite. Difficult, yes. But polite. Admittedly the f-bomb is part of my regular vocabulary much like it is on Saturday Night Live, but I’m cognisant of the company I’m with and will adjust my language as necessary. (Forgive me Father for I have sinned, it’s been about 27 years since my last confession. Do you have a few hours?) If my mother heard my language at times, I would have a mouth-full of soap, but I would have thanked her for doing that afterwords.

As a youngster, if I exhibited the behavior some young people exhibit today, my behind would be red and I would be waiting “for my father to come home” fully expecting a stern reprimand. I don’t know where in the course of history manners and etiquette took a left turn, but I’m hoping it gets back on the right track. After all, I don’t want to be watching our next President of the United States delivering his acceptance speech with his pants down around his knees and his underwear hanging out. Unless his last name is Clinton, then he’s excused.