Always have the courtesy to pass out somewhere private, where people don’t have to step over you.

Sleigh bells are ringing, Christmas lights are blinking and it’s balls-shriveling cold outside. That’s right, it’s that time of year again. No, not time to watch A Christmas Story for the 57th time in 29 days while you fight with your family. Rather, the office holiday party.

Some people use their corporate-sponsored fun to let loose more than others. Free booze, horny co-workers and droning bosses — these all can add up to hilarity and scandal the night of the party — and extreme awkwardness the Monday after. Like, being Tiger Woods’ neighbor awkward. (“Oh, hey Tiger! Um, so … uh … how ‘bout this weather? Nicer than the weather in Vegas … I mean Florida … shoot.”)

If you’re any fun at all, you will encounter one of these situations. But we’re here to help you navigate the Isle of Misfit Co-Worker Incidents and get safely back to Santa’s Workshop just in time to save Christmas and teach those other reindeer a lesson in humility. Yes, that metaphor did come off the rails halfway through, thank you very much.

• You hit on Linda from Accounts Receivable and she’s just not going for it — and now she’s laughing about it with her friends: Here’s what you do: Next time you approach her and her friends, ply them all with SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS. Carefully remind her that every belt of Rumple Minze is “like drinking a candy cane.” If you conveniently forget a round or two for yourself, and can give her a ride home, she’ll be even more grateful and you can continue the make-out sesh in the car. It might not be everything you dreamed about, but take what you can get. Oh, and try not to brag to too many co-workers. The less she hears about herself in the rumor mill, the more apt she’ll think you really care somewhat for her feelings (Ed note: You won’t.), and she might just give in another time.
• Creepy Guy from Finance will not leave you alone: And if he’s trying to ply you with shots, you must be Linda from Accounts Receivable. Look, what’s the harm in making out with someone you’re not normally attracted to? Just go with it. Let him have his fantasy – or at least, a minuscule part of it, if he’s that creepy – just take that extra shot of Jack Daniels and make out a bit. It won’t kill you, especially if you do it somewhere no one will see you. (Ed note: “Take an extra shot” and “it won’t kill you” is also our No. 1 advice to the ladies.) First thing Monday morning, though, spell it out that if any of this sees the light of day, he’s got no proof (make sure you don’t leave anything behind in his car), and you’re denying every last word he might want to blab about.
• Your boss hits on you: Look at it this way – they’ve got the upper hand and know all the harassment laws, and the holiday party is their only chance to expose their true desire for you. There are three ways to handle it. 1.) If you want to make out with your boss, go for it – all will be forgotten Monday. Seriously, act like nothing happened, guaranteed he/she will give you a “what happened at the party was a mistake” speech. So let it happen for a night – no consequences, as long as you stay professional every day after. 2.) If you don’t, there are plenty of opportunities to make your escape. Visit the bathroom frequently, stay near other groups who are talking and join their conversations. Even if those conversations are about work. If it gets weird, excuse yourself to dance amid a group of people and have them cock block. 3.) Regardless of if you want to or not, try to leverage the situation – write a few demands on a cocktail napkin, have them sign off on it, then proceed to do whatever your heart desires. Reject them or accept them, you’ve now got a written contract that he has to hum the theme song to Top Chef every time you enter the room.
• While dancing on a platform with all your work buddies, you teeter off and your wrist swells up bigger than A-Rod’s ego: It might not hurt all that much now because you’re smashed, but if you stay at the party much longer, it could go from a hairline fracture to a bad break in three places. And c’mon, if it hurts to do something mundane like zip up your pants, it probably needs to be checked out. Or you need to leave your pants unzipped. Either way. Take a few final shots and grab a cab home and either head to the hospital or wait and see how it feels in the morning. If it’s still big and throbbing – and we don’t mean your morning wood – go to the hospital.
• You really take advantage of that open bar. So much so that you puked all over yourself. Or a colleague: Why is it that whenever you’re so drunk you’re going to puke, you can never find a toilet or trash can? If you puke on yourself, hopefully your dress isn’t silk and it won’t stain — wipe off excess with a paper towel, put water on the remnants or stains and stand in a stall while it dries a bit. Call a friend who can keep a secret and bring you some water. And if it looks like there was obviously some form of shrimp cocktail down the front of your dress, leave. If you happen to throw up on someone else, though, that’s a bit trickier. You might not be in the right frame of mind, but hopefully someone around can help you get to a trash can and help the victim clean up or get out of the way. After you’re done, find the person and apologize. Expect angry looks, demands for you to pay for dry-cleaning and “Watch out, she’s gonna blow!” jokes when you resurface. As long as you sincerely apologize (which means no air quotes around “Sorry I spewed all over you, dude”), and maybe even e-mail an apology the next day (since any apology that night will be a drunken one) the incident should blow over.
• Everyone saw you make out with a coworker, so there’s no denying it: It’s just not the office holiday party without someone walking in on the admin assistant and the new guy in HR (ahem … yeah) making out in the copy room at the party.
• When you take a cigarette break by yourself you sit dow, take in the view … then wake up on fire: Hopefully you won’t be so inebriated that you forget the most important lesson in fire safety: Stop, drop and don’t use gin to put yourself out because that just makes fire more hurty. Chances are it will just be some burn marks on your clothes, so if anyone asks say you’re just naturally smoking hot. No one cares about the real story. They just feel compelled to ask. If, however, you suffered actual burns on your skin, consider making a discrete exit. You need at least Neosporin — and besides, there aren’t any good cover stories to explain why you look crispier than Freddy Krueger.

Got a question, problem or a rash you can’t get rid of? Let contributor Stephanie Sims help. Write us, and maybe if you’re good and promise to stop chasing the cat around with that jar of peanut butter, it’ll find its way into the column.

By Stephanie Sims

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