Willy Trolove: How to avoid disaster at the office Christmas party

It's October, and that means we'll soon be swamped by singing advertisements telling us there are only 81 shopping days until Christmas (fa-la-la-la-lah, la-la-la-lah).

Before we know it, our mailboxes will burst with brochures advertising everything from patio cushions to frappucino makers, trying to convince us that these handy items are the perfect Christmas gift for the significant people in our lives who, through a strange inability to recognise good value when they see it, haven't yet acquired their own patio cushions and frappucino makers.

And because Christmas is close enough to feature in advertisements, planning should be well advanced for the major event in the annual corporate calendar - the office Christmas party.

In the weeks ahead, Christmas party discussions will feature heavily in your workplace.

They'll make it to the agenda of team meetings. They'll provoke minor scuffles around the water cooler. They'll cause large bets to be placed on which of the new employees will pass out blind drunk under the buffet table halfway through the manager's Christmas speech.

And your workmates will give their judgments on last year's party.

"The band was rubbish," they'll say. "The venue was all wrong," they'll declare.

"That's the last time I dress up as Mother Teresa and try and get off with the Lone Ranger in a bouncy castle," they'll proclaim.

There is a lot to resolve. Decisions have to be made about where the party will be held, what kind of party it will be, whether or not spouses and partners will be invited, and precisely which poor sods have to organise it.

Idealistic managers will turn to democracy. Their executive assistants will run a poll asking the staff to select their preferred Christmas Party option.

If the Christmas Party were held today, the poll will say, would you like it to involve:

a) a harbour cruise and interactive crustacean education experience where you learn about sustainable marine policies and get to sample a variety of kelp dishes;

b) a combined karaoke, mud-wrestling and darts competition; or

c) a mystery bus tour to a secret rural location where you square-dance to country and western classics, and barbecue your own cow.

But democracy, as our politicians have found in recent weeks, is a troublesome beast, and it doesn't always produce a desirable outcome.

When people vote they have to take responsibility for the result, and savvy managers realise that such collective trauma can be bad for team morale.

Preferably, one or two people should be responsible for organising the party. That way, everyone knows who to blame when things go wrong.

Because money is involved, many managers make the mistake of putting an accountant in charge. This usually means that the Christmas party budget is carefully spent but that the event is far from a success.

There won't be enough drink because the incremental cost benefit of providing more than one drink per employee is unjustifiable due to the declining break-even inebriation ratio.

There won't be any music because music can't be capitalised without depreciating the marginal return on the investment. And there won't be any fun, because fun isn't a deductible expense.

Similarly, members of the marketing team should never organise the Christmas party. The hype surrounding the event will always be far bigger than the event itself, the budget will be blown on glossy pamphlets showing you how much fun everyone will have and, in the week after the party, outlandish rumours will circulate about how wild the night was, how cool the marketing team is, and how much fun everyone had, even though the party was over by 8.15pm and the only enjoyment anyone got was when Daryl from IT slipped on a glazed cherry and dislocated his hairpiece.

Giving the job to the lawyers is another no-no. They'll spend weeks preparing a carefully qualified opinion on what the office party should involve. By the time they finally get around to booking anything, the only venue left in town will be an upmarket sushi bar in receivership which has had all its sushi repossessed.

And the bright young things from Human Resources won't do any better. They'll make sure the menu doesn't discriminate against the less popular food groups and the seating arrangements don't provoke any workplace grievances. They'll prevent partners and spouses attending until they've read their 135-page office Christmas party induction manuals.

In fact the only employees who are qualified to organise the office Christmas party are the receptionists. Receptionists know how to party. They are used to dealing with impossible tasks and sensitive situations.

They have an uncanny knack of making the most miserable employees enjoy themselves - including those who'll be fretting about how they're going to pay for all the patio cushions and frappucino makers.