Friday, December 15, 2006

Men

As the assistant to the President of construction, it was left to me to organize a company Christmas potluck lunch. For two weeks, I've been sending out emails and asking people to sign up to bring something. By "asking" them to bring something, I mean chasing them down and cornering them in their offices and threatening them. That's how half of my week was spent.

The other half was spent trying to explain to grown men that potato chips are not an acceptable side dish for a Christmas luncheon. It took six emails to the VP before he understood what a side dish is and that chips don't count - and then he decided to bring a dessert anyway.

I'm not exaggerating when I say that every single man in this office - from the President to the supers to the IT guy - asked if they could bring chips as their side dish. This was always calmly stated, accompanied by a blank look. This was also after I'd explained to them the nature of the lunch: Christmasy, partly catered, and definitely a step up from other company lunches. This was also after I'd told them that other employees were bringing stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean cassarole, etc. - definitely a step up from chips.

And yet, every time I heard it, I was surprised. I became convinced that there was a mass mutiny happening and that word was being spread for them to suggest bringing chips. Instead, I now believe that all guys really do think alike.

So I shouldn't have been surprised when the following exchange took place with one of the guys this morning:

Guy: I brought something for the lunch, but it wasn't what I signed up for...

Bone Junior: I'm sure that's ok. You signed up for salad right? What did you bring instead?

Guy: Um, I decided to bring a donut salad.

Bone Junior: Flatly. Really. Pause. What's a donut salad?

Guy: Uh, it's kind of like a dozen Krispy Kremes.

A box of Krispy Kremes wouldn't really detract from the overall ambiance of my Christmas table spread, so I wasn't worried about it.

I wasn't worried about it until I was then approached by none other than Napoleon McBoom Boom. Standing close by was the VP, the accountant, and Mr. Donut Salad, all of whom had asked to bring chips. Ironically, Napoleon McBoom Boom was the only office guy who hadn't asked to bring chips, and was apparently unaware of my stance against having picnic food at my Christmas table.

Napoleon: Yeah.....I had a really late night last night, and I just didn't have time to make that dessert that I signed up for. So... I had to bring something else.

Bone Junior: Ok. What did you bring?

Napoleon: I got Doritos and chips.

There wasn't even anything I could say, and even if there was, you wouldn't have been able to hear it over the laughter of the guys behind him. Suffice it to say that I felt like stabbing my pen through his jugular and simultaneously telling him that no matter how late your night is, there is no excuse for coming to work with Cockatiel bed head. I also wanted to tell him that his Cockatiel bed head has been posted on the interweb for all my faithful readers to see.

Instead, I smoothed my skirt, held my head high, and told him that I appreciated his effort in contributing to our company lunch. Then I told the other guys to bend over and I'd show them where to put those chips.

Feliz Navidad total: 30
Rocky Balboa Countdown: 5 days

4 comments:

Andi Mae said...

I smell Relief Society President or Enrichment Leader. Bravo.

Bone Junior said...

How dare you slander my good name with such accusations! If I had a pair of riding gloves on, I'd slowly take one off, finger by finger, and then slap you with it.

Erin's mom said...

This was actually a life lesson.
well done miss bone!

Bone Junior said...

Not only was it a life lesson, but I'm sure I can find a way to turn it into an object lesson as well.

Yay! Erin's mom commented on my bloggie!