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There was a protest outside the office and we were all told to leave by 5, which I did. But unlike others, I didn't head home, nor did I join the throng of protesting hordes outside. Instead I went to Wimbledon.
As I nursed a drink at a pub table, tables around me were decorated with fake holly and cheap fairy lights. I watched the corner of the pub get transformed into a venue for the upcoming event.
Before long, I found myself sitting at a table with several locals, some rather hesitant, with a glass of milk. In front of us all were mince pies, piled high on plates like diplomatic ferrero rocher.
It was time for the actual Man vs Santa mince pie scoffing competition.
The landlord hounded a few people he knew to fill a few empty chairs and then a countdown started.
We had 3 minutes and 10 seconds (the length of the song The Eye of the Tiger) to eat as many as we could.
Mince pies are dry and even with the milk my progress was slow. I had just stuffed the fifth into my mouth as the song finished.
The winner devoured 13.
I'm sure somewhere there'll be a video of my crumb riddled face trying desperately to finish chewing on one with the aid of a sip of milk.