The office farewell

There are few things more naff than the office farewell. Although, any sort of function with the prefix 'office' is bound to be naff. Friday night office drinkies? Office xmas party? Office machine gun rampage.

Generally it consists of 'farewelling' some boring as hell accountant from the 7th floor, who you have never talked to, apart from the time he said "gee it's wet out" one morning in the elevator after a torrential downpour. You get to stand round munching on some sub-standard sausage rolls and club sandwiches (who orders these?), and listen to a by-the-numbers speech about what a great job he's done, we're all going to miss you and all the best for your new endeavours. Tedious.

Even worse however, is being forced to 'chip in' to buy them a present. And even worse than that, is this sort of gift-giving arms raise which seems to be escalating round the office, where we need a morning tea, card and present for anyone who has a birthday, anniversary, return from maternity leave or finally passed that turd that's been blocking them up for a while.

Gifts, by definition, are a voluntary token of affection from one person to another. I'm happy to cough up a few bucks for someone I genuinely like, but I'm not gonna pay towards a gift for some schmoe I couldn't care less about. But of course if I don't, I'll be forever marked out as the office asshole for not ponying up the dough.