Back in December 1984 I was just about half-way through a Student placement in Whitehall. As with most work places they had an Office Christmas party to which all were invited to attend. Note I used the word 'invited' there and not 'expected'. My problem was that I had a ticket to see Big Country at Wembley Arena that night so as far as I was concerned it was no contest. When I told a senior manager that I would not be attending due to a previous engagement no comment was made. Well not to my face anyway.
So, I went with Susan and we enjoyed ourselves. The Cult were the support act and she had a great time wondering what wearing such a tight bandana would do to Ian Astbury's brain and musing on the revealing tightness of the trousers on display. However that was nothing to her observations of an unfortunate incident Bruce Watson had in his. They look to be the same pair he has on in the video below, so I hope they were washed and clean again by a week later.
On arriving home that night one of my other student placement friends collared me and I found out that I'd not missed anything at the Office do. There was some story or other about a cake baking competition and a mix up with the contents of some Quality Street tins. No Librarians chasing Store Men into Cold Stores or jumping on a pile of packing boxes to get their Christmas, ahem, 'kiss' (that'll be another two stories for some other SYNHOTR's no doubt).
I strolled in to work the next morning to find that I had been summoned to a meeting with the aforementioned senior manager. Apparently I'd been missed the previous night. I also found out that the Chief Librarian actually knew my name as it was her that made the fuss about me being missing, "How dare [I] not attend!!!". So I had to explain in detail why I had ditched the social event of the year for a "prior engagement". Where had I been, what time did I have to be there, who was I with, how long had I had the tickets etc. It was like being interrogated by your Mum after sneaking in the house past midnight without a pumpkin or singing Disney mice in tow.
It seems it was a criminal offence not to turn up to the party. I was not 'court martialed' only due to the fact that I could prove my ticket had been issued long before the date of the Christmas Party had been set. Much relief appeared on the face of the senior manager when that fact was revealed. This gave her a "credible story to placate [the Chief]" with.
As I indignantly left the Office the senior manager turned to me and said, "Were they really good? I've heard they're excellent live". "Yes", I said. "I would rather have been there too" she wistfully replied as she brought out the Quality Street tin and offered me one.
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