Not an office, but…
My first proper job after uni was in a research pilot plant in Reading, just behind the Bell. The plant operated 24hrs, so lunch break for nightshift tended to be very liquid. We had a sofa in the stock room, which was was used to entertain ladies we’d met in the pub at closing time.
It was hot in there, with lots of steam, so we frequently worked in shorts. One very hairy lad slept on shift, across a bench.
Until we set his leg hair on fire. It stank.
Then there were the fork-lift truck races….
And races over nitrogen tri-iodide crystals we’d brewed up in the lab. It’s a detonating explosive, which makes a hell of a bang when hit. We could leave it on the floor in solution, so the dayshift would come in when it was drying.
I can’t think why they shut the site down.