12% BEER
Big Ol' Box Of Mints: The 5th Food Group
  Holy shit.

Look at how big that box of mints is. I put the stapler remover next to it so that you'd get some sort of scale thing going on in your mind.

My office is having an Open House today so that people associated with our organization can come in and say "oooh" and "ahhh" about the new offices.

We're serving punch. Cake. Some mixed nuts. Strawberries centrally located next to a bowl of powdered sugar.

And a big fucking box of mints.

We are mega professional, yo.

What I don't understand is why I am required to put on professional looking clothes all day, sit in my back office where no one ever sees me and arrive on time at 8:30AM Monday thru Friday purely to keep up the appearances of a 'professional' office.

A professional office that serves pastel mints as a meal.

I am at a loss for words on how this makes all my efforts to keep up appearances here seem just as false and pretentious as I suspected them to be.

I was just outside discussing the mints with a co-worker. She admitted that she was a food snob and was horrified at the thought that pastel mints, sheet cake, and kool-aid were being passed off as the perfect food necessities for an Open House.

I pondered this myself. Although I do not think of myself as being one of the food snob sorts, I flashed back to the past food/office experiences we've had here in recent dates.

There was the chicken lasagne that was purchased from Sam's and served on old Birthday plates. There were the cheese loaf sandwhiches with a cup of thousand island for dipping purposes. Then there was the time where the boss splurged and gave three of us $20 and then gasped to find out that we spent the $20 on "fancy burritos" from Chipotle's. (They cost $4.95.. with tax that's a pretty good deal. Fancy or not. <------ Free advertising for Chipotle's.)

Maybe it's because I'm not in the same generation as the higher-uppers. Maybe it's because they were raised by parents who spent most of their lives in The Depression. I imagine them as children, having to split a single potato with their siblings and washing their hair with Tide because they were told there was "no need to splurge on luxury items you don't deserve."

It's sort of sad.

Maybe I'm the sad one, making such a fuss over a big box of pastel mints. I can see the pettiness in it. Yes I can.

But come on. Have you ever eaten those mints before?

They're nasty.

Now excuse me as I snack away at my stick of hickory beef jerky snack and sip on my Moon Mist Shasta.

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Copyright 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004 L.Leroy