30 December 2010

Ode to the Potluck, the holidays, the trough of food for the shithorse parade

I hate fucking potlucks.

Library staff loves them. When I say love, I mean, I get emails thanking me for putting together a great potluck. Look, all I did was come up with a date and a time, that's not a big deal.

I've got to three potlucks this week. I don't have a choice. I'm management and have to make nice-nice and look like I care. Me being at the potluck fosters a sense of camaraderie and shows that I care about my team.

Or, some bullshit. I don't know, I read that in a text book in a management class at some point in time of life.

At one potluck, the staff opened the door for me, sat me at the head of the table, poured my beverage, waited to sit until I sat, and then waited to eat until I ate. Awkward much?

I threw up from that potluck. I think that they were trying to kill me now that I look back on it. I ate a piece of fried chicken (store bought--I only eat store bought things from potlucks unless I know the person) and in an hour, I was puking. No one else puked. I think my food was laced with rat poison. Shitrats.

At the second potluck, I just ate a piece of (store bought) cake that had so much sugar in it I nearly went into diabetic shock (I'm not diabetic). Then, I drank some punch because I was so thirsty. Dumb idea. The sugar numbed my nuerons, which was just as well, since I had a meeting after the potluck anyway.

At the third potluck, I had to deal with pissy crybaby staff that didn't want to play nice with the other kids and participate in the potluck. I just ate some veggies and the dessert I brought. Then, I remembered I didn't bring enough for lunch (so, here I sit hungry).

For fuck's sake. This would be easier to just deal with crazy patrons than to sit there and make chitchat smalltalk with people that I don't really like and don't really care about and then later worry about being poisoned.

Ah, that sounds so cold, but it's true. At these events, I usually sit off to the side. I'm management. I'm the one that they try to suck up with, so each person gets to have their "special time" with me. A few tend to sit and socialize with me like I'm a real person rather than a motherfucking robot. These people get big points in my book. I'm not out to get anyone. I supposed I should say, I'm not out to get anyone if the job is being done. If you're an idiot and sitting around picking your ass all day, I'll stick my shoe up it, but otherwise, I just want a piece of pizza like everyone else (please, please, for the LOVE OF GOD, no fried chicken).

However, really, at these potlucks, it's so forced and painful and the food is so bad that I'd rather just eat my lunch in the car, get sworn at by a drunk patron, and then go back to getting bitched at about library policy.

I just wonder if my vomit really fostered the sense of camaraderie and if it did, the next time I'm at a leadership workshop, can I just vomit on the speaker?