Is it still a potluck if almost all the food is catered?

It’s fascinating what food can do to people’s moods and attitudes and amicability.

We had our International Potluck (IP) today. Or, as the Japanese might say: Happy Food Fun Time Yeah! It was a classic Office Space moment around 10:30 a.m. when K-Dizzle the Receptionist (name changed so that he may remain anonymous) and I were in a tizzy. We examined the IP sign-up sheet and noticed that out of about 50 people, only eight or so signed up to bring food, and it was all desserts. I ran my finger down the list and found my name: Joanna – Baklava or something sort of Eastern European, it read. “Ha! Well, that’s a joke! I’m not bringing no baklava!” I also snapped my fingers when I said this and ended it with a “hmmm hmmm.”

To compensate for lack of food, we catered in sandwiches, so many damn sandwiches! We also ordered a huge salad, fruit platters, pizza, fried chicken. The food was arranged neatly on a huge table in the center of the office. At some point I commented that it looked a lot nicer than our old potluck (the one where I choked up half my food), and a co-worker said, “That’s because it’s all been bought. I ain’t eating no food from people’s HOUSES.”

But even more interesting was what happened when K-Dizzle announced in a sing-song voice, “Okay, children, it’s lunch time! I say, LUNCH IS SERVED!” Many little heads popped up, like little gophers peering shyly from their cube caves. People of all different sizes and colors and backgrounds started slobbering, like starved wolves, and gathered around that big table, so overloaded with food and goodies and wonderful smells.

And suddenly we were all friends. The Web nerds started talking to the writers. The strategy team joked with the designers. People started caring about one another. It was like world peace had occurred in our little corner of the office. I heard comments like:
“Hey Bob, those Swedish meatballs were delightful!” and
“I saw your presentation last week, it was wonderful, I really need to think about…” and
“Shirley, have you lost weight?”

As I was gnawing on a piece of fried chicken, someone asked me where I live. I thought, You know my name? and put a protective hand around my red velvet cupcake before I answered.

Hours went by. The office became a sort of screwed up, cracked out playground. People were giddy over the sugar, the decadence of it all. I felt like I was in some lame musical, and wondered who was going to bust out in song first.

Projects became fun. I tried to figure out a problem with a Web site with some co-workers and someone asked me why the problem occurred. Nearly drunk with sugar, I replied, “Why is the sky blue?” I turned to the Web coordinator for a response, and she replied, just as intoxicated with sugar-love, “Why is fat hanging over my jeans right now?” And then we just went on and on with the silly drunk whys. Why?

People ate fruit tarts into the late afternoon hours. Like chimps on a scavenger hunt, I saw the Webbies sneak over to steal an extra chocolate chip cookie. Others moaned in delight over the toffee pudding cake.

Little acts of kindness occurred. I noted them all, stealth-like, from the safety of my corner. I saw someone lend someone socks for the gym. Their SOCKS! “Take them! They’re clean!” I offered to cover a meeting, a meeting so boring that it makes me want to stick pens in my eyeballs! A designer scrambled to fix an error with a smile, “No problem!”

Tomorrow, perhaps, things will go back to normal, but today it was a whimsical carnival of food and thought and cheer.