Meet Two-Day-Bender Ben: The Human Hangover Who Somehow Still Has a Job
Meet Two-Day-Bender Ben, the human hangover of the office. From nightly drinking sessions to chaotic detox attempts, Ben brings hilarious, unfiltered chaos to the corporate world.
If you’ve ever worked in an office where one employee seems to drift in each morning looking like he’s just completed a sponsored crawl through Glastonbury, then congratulations — you’ve met Two-Day-Bender Ben. Or at least, someone spiritually identical.
James Mason
Ben has a drinking problem. Not a casual “few pints with the lads” sort of issue — we’re talking a full-time, after-hours commitment. While most people unwind after work with one drink, Ben heroically smashes straight through one, bypasses two, and cosplays as a human keg somewhere between ten and fifteen pints deep. That’s before he starts mixing cocktails like he’s auditioning for a chaotic reboot of Cocktail starring a man who hasn’t slept since Brexit.
And naturally, because the universe enjoys comedy, Ben never quite realises he should stop. He’ll phone in sick at 8 am with a coughing voice and a violent “24-hour bug,” only to be spotted on Instagram at 11 pm downing Jägerbombs and starting a fight with a bouncer named Craig. Again.
James Mason
The Morning After (Aka: Ben’s Personal Apocalypse)
When Ben does drag himself into the office, he arrives in the sort of state health and safety guidelines refer to as “absolutely not fit for human interaction.”
His shirt is always creased, stained, or clinging to him like it’s given up hope. His tie? Permanently loosened. His face? A tragic blend of dehydration, existential regret, and whatever he walked into last night. His ID badge? Swings like a warning sign: STILL HERE. FOR NOW.
Ben isn’t hungover — he is the hangover.
He stomps through the office with a strong scent of stale whiskey, disappointment, and Lynx Africa hastily applied in the toilet cubicle. Nobody approaches him unless necessary — partly because he’s unapproachable, partly because he looks like he might combust.
James Mason
Ben’s Detox Plan (That Never Actually Works)
Ben always claims he is “detoxing today.” He says it every morning. Yet his detox ritual consists of:
- Chugging three litres of warm water
- Holding a mug that says “NEVER DRINKING AGAIN” with trembling hands
- Staring into the void
- Whispering “Never again” like a prayer
- Googling symptoms and diagnosing himself with everything except what he actually has
- Eating a sausage roll at 9 am because carbs “soak it up”
- Crashing by 11 am
- Booking a table at Wetherspoons by 5 pm
This cycle has repeated 472 days in a row.
James Mason
HR’s Nightmare, Finance’s Mystery, IT’s Warning Label
HR have tried to intervene, but every time they schedule a well-being check, Ben no-shows because he’s “off with food poisoning,” “suffering migraines,” or “attending a deeply personal appointment” (translation: drinking Guinness until he forgets his own responsibilities).
Finance doesn’t know what he actually does but suspects his productivity peaks somewhere between 11 am and 11:07 am.
IT tried to give him a new laptop once, but he smelt so strongly of sambuca that the technician quietly left it outside his desk with a sanitising wipe.
Why We Love Ben Anyway
Despite everything — the sick days, the questionable fights, the weekly self-inflicted meltdowns — Ben is oddly… lovable. He’s never intentionally rude. He pet-sits for coworkers. He donates to charity. He laughs easily (usually to hide the pain). He’s the guy who will help you move house hungover. He once came in after a 48-hour bender and still held the lift door open for three people.
He’s chaos, tragedy, and slapstick rolled into one exhausted man. But he’s our exhausted man.
