If you're reading this, it's Monday morning; and most likely you are at work. That's bittersweet. It's sweet, cause you've got a job, and you're probably getting paid. It's bitter cause you're still at work; and I probably make a shitload more than you do, doing a lot less.
Those of you out in the workforce are probably familiar with the term, "potluck". You know, everybody brings a dish, and you all share. Sounds like a great idea, right?
FUCK NO, IT'S A HORRIBLE IDEA.
Not only do I have to worry about eating a less-than-healthy meal; but I have no idea what kind of squalor my fellow employees live in. I haven't been to each and every one of their domiciles - to check for cleanliness. All I have to go on is their personal appearance.
AND IN SOME CASES THAT'S PRETTY FUCKED UP.
Some people (or poople, lol) smell, some don't do the proper hygiene thing, some are aware, and some are oblivious. I don't care, I don't really want to make you feel bad - I just don't want to eat your gross-ass food, YOU FILTHY ANIMAL.
It's like, "you are fat and disgusting, and are touching something I could potentially eat".
Now I'm not saying I'm above reproach here. Wait, actually I am. I very rarely bring anything homemade in for potlucks. If I do, it's usually something I can cook at the office, so everyone can see the precautions I take for a savory (and sanitary) contribution to our nice little potluck. In most cases, I just run to the store and pick something up.
You know there's always gonna be someone of lesser cleanliness asking me to try his/her food. "Oh Andy, you're gonna love it." Actually, you shithead, I'm not going to love it. I've worked with you for the past 4 years, and every day you come into the lunchroom and tell me I'm crazy for eating "a salad "; "so healthy"; and "those vegetables". You do this every day. Now you want me to try your deep-fried chocolate turds with cream cheese? You also asked me if my vegetarian chili had rabbit in it. You are so beyond fucked in the head.
We (read: I) have instituted a few policies to enjoy not only a nutritious lunch, but to also survive this here potluck situation:
- The potluck sign-up sheet hanging in the kitchen - this is our first line of defense against the unclean. It says right there, who is bringing what. What a great resource for not eating, for lack of a better word, food that is straight-up crap. I usually pick out a dish or two brought by someone I personally trust.
- On numerous occasions, I have requested that HR requires name tags by each dish. Just a little piece of paper to identify not only the dish, but who brought it. Sometimes the sign-up sheet is hard to follow (illegible handwriting; unidentifiable, fucked up looking food)
- Myself, and a few like minded co-workers usually get together and try to assign things to bring, between us. We like to have a(n) (edible) protein, a few (2) sides, and maybe a desert. I trust these few people - whether they make it at home, or they buy it at the store - I know I can safely eat it...and not get poisoned by the grimy, gluttonous cookings of unsanitarians.
The lunch-time horn toots, and everybody mills into the kitchen, like zombies trudging around in an aimless search for human brains. And there I am, smiling and enjoying my inner peace - knowing I will have survived another potluck.