Hi there, guys and dolls! Here’s food for thought – it’s Workday Wednesday. And do I have a story for you to try to digest. May it go down better than mine did….
So what do your work cohorts do when someone has something to celebrate? Why, I’ll bet it’s the good old fashioned office luncheon pot luck. And aren’t they just treasures? Why, everyone oohs and aahs over the food, a flurry of activity goes on for days as recipes are exchanged, leftovers wolfed down throughout the rest of the week – all around such a happy time.
Right. Did I mention it was at my office? Most special occasions that get blown out of the water are usually things the defending party wants to avoid, such as a birthday with really, really high numbers, or say, a wedding that requires ammunition – that would be a shotgun, as in our case with Polly from Purchasing who has now ensured her nuptials with Larry from Legal by estimating that is one of those “rare birds” who grows full term babies in just six months after the wedding (isn’t that just a miracle when that happens).

That means that we all must congratulate and wish the couple well, and in short notice. Nothing like a last minute pot luck to show the true talents and ingenuity of our fine staff. Me? I had nothing in my fridge, except an open jar of caviar and a bottle of bubbly, and there’s no way I’m sharing that with the gang there. I brought paper plates (they’re needed, so there). I should have brought Alka-Seltzer, given the selections whipped up by my fine colleagues.

What a bizarre buffet. Of course, aspic everything abounds, including a lovely array of wieners poking straight up out of a ring of pasta rings suspended in tomato (prompted Mabel to clutch her rosary and utter a prayer for her unclean thoughts, while Judy and Trudy kept tickling the frankfurters until Milly told them to either take it and eat it or keep their hands to themselves). Then there was the smiling fish mousse that no one would cut into (where does one start – head or tail, plus Richard from Sales was convinced it was staring at him and he couldn’t figure out why it was grinning – that boy is a little off, to be honest).

At least there was one redeeming asset to the party. Patty Lou packs a mean punch! Bowl, that is (fists, too from what I understand, but rumor has it that she had settled her differences with Polly over Larry just before Polly had found out that the extra weight around her middle was not “winter weight” after all – frankly, Patty Lou was happy to have dodged that bullet, and so a truce reigned in the office air). That punch was the only thing consumable at that party and we all had a fine time. Maybe some of us might remember it, too.
Thanks for reading and stay tuned for more posts. And don’t forget to give my Poppy Cove Mysteries a try if you haven’t already.
Toodles, Barbara Jean