Office Christmas lunch: €25 for a menu that costs €13 the rest of the year
Paying €25 for a menu that costs €13 the rest of the year? That's the calculation a Spanish civil servant makes before deciding not to attend his office's Christmas lunch. His reasoning: starter, main course, drink and dessert for €10 or €12 at any neighbourhood bar, versus the €25 he's being asked to pay for the same menu rebranded as «dishes to share». And with an added catch, according to his account: the drinks aren't fully included, so the bill can end up at €30 when someone orders an extra round.
The discussion that trinc isn't just about €25. It's about who pays, why they pay, and what exactly that money buys.
What a company Christmas lunch really costs
The calculation is the one made by the participant who starts the thread, and other forum users share it. The normal daily menu costs between €13 and €15, according to his version. In December, the same restaurant serves it as a Christmas menu for €25, with starters to share and a jug of beer for every four diners, leaving each person with a single glass. The value for money, he argues, falls apart.
Some point out that €25 is no fortune: two pizzas delivered cost the same, according to one comment. For those criticising the seasonal mark-up, the problem isn't the absolute figure, but the seasonal surcharge and what you get in return. The menu gets more expensive because demand is concentrated on specific dates and the restaurant knows it, they argue. If nobody accepted those prices, there would be no increase, they add.
The final catch, according to the original account, is the drinks. The bill starts at €25 and ends at €30 or €40 when someone orders drinks that weren't planned, he calculates. That breakdown is what convinces more than one person to stay home.
Who pays for the company Christmas dinner?
This is where the deepest divide opens up. One side argues that a company dinner is paid for by the company, no exceptions. If the employee puts up the money, it isn't a company dinner: it's a get-together between colleagues with the corporate label on, they maintain. The distinction isn't semantic — it changes who decides, who books, and who bears the cost.
At the other extreme are those who work at companies where the dinner is paid for by the company, with a hotel, travel for workers from several provinces, an open bar and dancing until three in the morning, according to one forum user's account. Newcomers are amazed, they say. That contrast explains why the anger isn't proportional to the price: it depends on whether the money comes out of your own pocket or the company's budget.
And then there's the version held by those who argue that the boss isn't treating anyone, but paying with the worker's money. The payslip doesn't go up, the expense is passed on to the employee, and the hierarchy stays intact, they argue. Some recall that at their company there was never even a Christmas drink, and that it was the colleagues themselves who put in five euros each for something to nibble on the last Friday before the holidays. The bosses showed up, had a drink, and gave a congratulatory speech, according to this testimony.
Why more and more people are skipping work Christmas dinners
The argument that comes up most often has nothing to do with money. It's time. Someone who gives eight hours a day to the company in exchange for a salary sees no reason to also give up their free hours in return for a plate of lentils, one forum user maintains. Mixing team-building and work in the same sentence sounds, at the very least, odd, he adds.
On top of that comes the hypocrisy. Having dinner with the person who tripped you up all year, on a set date and paying for it yourself, bears little resemblance to a celebration, according to several comments. Some sum it up bluntly: the hypocrisy dinners. Others point out that dinner night is the perfect moment to suck up to the boss or make a move on the colleague you fancy. If neither applies, staying home watching a series is a perfectly rational option, according to this line of thinking.
Social pressure does the rest. Nobody wants to be the odd one who doesn't go, they say. But that antiestéticar of being singled out is exactly what keeps the system going, they argue: if everyone goes along to avoid being the office weirdo, prices don't come down and the same dynamics repeat every December. Breaking the chain has a social cost, and that's a cost many are no longer willing to pay.
Self-employed and civil servants: the two extremes of the same problem
The self-employed have it sorted by definition, according to one comment. They hold their company dinner whenever they want, wherever they want and, if they feel like it, in tracksuits. A €9 stew at the bar next door serves the same social function as the €25 Christmas menu, with the advantage that nobody hands them the bill at the end of the month, he jokes.
In the public sector it's different. The person who started the thread is a civil servant and the lunch is between civil servants, with no company to pay and no boss to treat anyone, as the participant himself clarifies. That removes the grievance of hierarchy, but keeps the price problem fully intact, in his view: the same daily menu, the same seasonal surcharge, and the same feeling of overpaying for a label.
In between is a silent majority that has gradually stopped attending without making a fuss, according to several accounts. People who one year simply didn't go, and didn't the next year either. No drama, no speeches, and no regrets.
In the end, the question isn't whether €25 is a lot or a little. It's whether the neighbourhood bar menu, served with a Christmas tablecloth and a jug of beer for every four people, is worth double in December. The answer lies with the restaurant, which raises the price because it can, according to the criticism. And with the one paying, who this year has decided not to.
Summary of a discussion on Burbuja.info - Foro de economía, actualidad y política., translated from Spanish and reviewed before publication.
Read the full discussion (99 replies).