When I got to work today, I assumed that the high point would be the knowledge that the weekend is achingly close. I found myself pleasantly surprised when an early office email revealed that there were free bagels and cream cheese in the kitchen.
There is little so glorious as free office food. Maybe it's just a holdover from my college days, when free food could entice me to any event, regardless of its content. Lecture tonight on bivalve evolution in the lower Mediterranean...accompanied by free hummus dip??? Dinner is served!
Quality of food is irrelevant. One catering company that frequents our office always treats us to a horrendous pasta salad, no doubt left untouched by the brahmans who get first dibs. Hell, I don't even like pasta salad, but it carries with it the taste of illicit freedom. You think Kunta Kinte woulda cared about the selection if he was given catered leftovers?
I actually got nagged at a couple months ago after preying upon a catered event for visiting execs. They looked finished with the meal, so I brought my special tupperware bowl to the steamtrays, scavenging for next day's lunch. Though I'd call my actions appropriate in this economic climate, some VP of an unnecessary department scolded my pre-emptive strike. Tut tut, exec lady...fortune favors the brave!
There's something primal about office-food foraging, mainly the desire to slink back to one's desk and devour your find in private. It's a fiercely competitive world of finder's keeper's and I'll be damned if Judy in finance hears about the chicken marsala before I do.
Besides, sitting at a computer for 8 hours a day has drained what little humanity I have left. Reintegration with the feral population doesn't sound so bad as long as it includes steamed vegetables and a couple sesame rolls.
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Promise to do the happy food dance... that's my favorite!
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