Good morning, Neil. I have analyzed the invitation, checked it against your calendar and your company’s habits, and I recommend that you go and stay about seventy minutes. I run every invitation through the same checks now, whether it is a party, a trade show or a wedding, so here is what I found.

Do you have to go? The invitation says optional. It is a holiday party, so optional means someone will notice. Hollis has mentioned it in the team channel twice. I am counting that as a yes.

When and where. Tuesday, December 8, 6:00 to 9:00, at the Garrick Room, the private dining room of an old-line steakhouse on West 28th Street. Speeches at 7:00. You are free that evening, with one small thing. Your 4:30 with Priya would have you running late, so I would like to move it to Monday at 3:00. She has something to ask you and she deserves your full attention. Wednesday’s 9:00 budget review gives you a good reason to leave early.

The food. I read the reviews, about 1,800 across three sites. They agree on three things. The steak is the reason anyone goes, the room is loud, and the service can feel rushed once a private room fills up. The sides get mentioned by name and with feeling, usually the creamed corn or the Brussels sprouts, and the cheesecake gets the last word. Skip the salmon. Nobody goes to a steakhouse for salmon. So here is the plan. Order the steak. Get to the bar before the speeches start, since a bar always backs up when a room has to stand and listen. Expect to raise your voice, and do not tell a long story, because nobody will hear the ending. The invitation asks for dietary needs by November 18, and your note went in as "no restrictions." Tell me if that is wrong, and I will ask Dennis to check with the kitchen.

Anything else that evening? Just one thing. You have your Tuesday call with your mother at 8:00. I moved it to 8:15 so it lands after you are home. She said that was fine, and that she hopes you are eating.

Do you bring Dana? The invitation says "we welcome you to bring a guest," which is a polite way of letting people choose. Hollis is bringing his wife, Colleen. My vote is to go alone this year. You are staying seventy minutes and you will spend most of them saying hello to Margaret and Hollis, and a guest at an office party mostly gets introduced to people who have nothing to say to them. But it is your call and hers. If you would like her there, tell me, and I will move the car to 8:30 and brief her on Alan’s marathons.

Who to suck up to, in this order.

Margaret Ostrander, the managing director, for visibility. Say hello before the line forms, with one sentence about the year and one about the team. Please skip the word "synergy." She has heard it.

Hollis Teague, your boss, for the Wexler account and your next review. He will ask how it is going. "On track" will do. Praise the team and not yourself, because he will repeat it upstairs.

Alan Brisbane in Finance, for the 9:00 budget review on Wednesday. Do not mention the budget. Ask about his marathons. He has run four, so allow twelve minutes. A man who has talked about running for twelve minutes approves things in a good mood.

Who to meet, and why.

Dennis Okafor, the office manager, for everything practical. He booked the room and knows when the bar closes. Be nice to Dennis. Dennis knows everything.

Colleen, Hollis’s wife, for timing. She decides when Hollis leaves, which decides when you can. Be charming, since she will be in the room longer than you.

What to expect. A speech called "a few words." A gift swap and a photo booth. I think Priya will find you to ask about her promotion, Marcus will slip out early, and Joel will steal the good gift. Joel takes the swap seriously.

What to wear. Your usual office clothes, one notch up. A jacket is plenty. Keep your coat on your arm, because I would guess the coat check line is the longest queue of the night.

A few gentle cautions. None of these are rules, just things I would want a friend to tell me.

Drinks. You get two tickets. Have one drink, then water, and keep the second ticket. It is surprisingly good currency.

The camera. Everyone has a phone and there is a photo booth. Last year’s pictures are still on the shared drive, and the first one is a reindeer sweater. Skip the booth hats.

The gummy. You are an adult and it is legal in New York, so I will not lecture. But edibles are slow and do not announce themselves. One at 4:30 might arrive in the middle of Margaret’s remarks, and you would find yourself agreeing with all of it, out loud.

Shop talk. A party is a poor place for a serious conversation and an excellent place for one to be remembered. Save the budget and anyone’s promotion for Wednesday.

The microphone. If it comes your way, you may politely decline. People forget who declined. They do not forget who sang.

The gift swap. It looks like fun and plays like a negotiation. I would not go up against Joel.

Getting there and home. The invitation mentions no ride home, so I booked a car. It will wait on the Madison Avenue side at 5:40 and be out front at 7:25, which puts you home around 7:55. If it runs late, I will rebook and text Marcus about sharing. Fare: I will check on the afternoon of the 8th. Footprint of the evening: about 1.6 kilograms of CO2 by car, using the EPA’s average of 400 grams a mile over an assumed four miles round trip. The subway would be less. I did not look up how much.

How tiring it is. More than it looks. Chatting with people you see every week is the harder kind of small talk, because you have to remember what you told them last Thursday. I will mute your phone when you leave and give you an hour of nothing. You earned it.

One small thing. The invitation does not mention lighting, music volume or a quiet corner. I wrote a polite note to Dennis asking. It is in your drafts. I will not send it unless you say so.

My scorecard, in plain English.

Do you have to go? Pretty much. 78 out of 100.

Schedule trouble? Just the one meeting, already fixed. 15.

How tiring? Quite. 82.

Will people notice if you skip? Yes, the right people. 71.

Is it worth being seen? A little. One hello each to Margaret and Hollis does most of the work. 64.

Anything risky? Drinks and cameras, nothing a plan cannot handle. 58.

Will you be comfortable? Probably, not certainly, since the invitation is quiet on details. 44.

Getting there and home? Tuesday in December in New York, so I booked ahead. 49.

Slipping out unnoticed? Easy. Leave around 7:20, before the awards. 88.