Halloween Drama

The office social chair coordinates an annual Halloween holiday pot-luck lunch. The co-workers sign up for various items and we dine in the conference room under some orange and black crape-paper with spider napkins.

Pot-luck is a problem for me; I can’t cook in a large mass due to inexperience. Most of the nights I throw something on the barbeque or whip up a large bowel chili. But providing a large dish for six to ten people is too complicated. Last year I bought three large boxes of chocolate chip cookies. The black-bat cupcakes were the rage and my cookies were trashed.

To prevent a repeat t he social chair assigned me chips and dips.

Easy.

This morning I swung by the store, threw some Tostitos, salsa and queso into the car and was the toast of roster. Other shameless office males ducked out for food runs throughout the morning while I basked in my accomplishment.

A few co-workers wore some Halloween colored shirts. The two women who sit across from each other who make hourly “potty” runs together wore converse outfits. (One with a black top and orange capris, the other with an orange top and black capris).

But the event wouldn’t be complete with some drama.

It seems person A (for kicks, lets assume it’s a female) signed up for some baked pasta dish. Meanwhile person B (oh I don’t know, how about another female) mixed some other pasta and meat sauce on a whim to prevent a shortage.

Both arrived in crock-pots.

Not good.

Person A drove by the renegade pasta dish cube and noted the similarity in a sharp tone over her shoulder. She then accelerated to the nearest exit and pouted through the morning session.

Meanwhile Person B stewed about the panged comment and after much deliberation, removed her item from the spread, hightailed it home and preserved the meal for a future family dinner.

As a bachelor who has zero tolerance for drama, I fail to see the injustice. More pasta equals more food that translates into more happy people. A guy just returned from Costco with some Seven-layer dip. Great, more of a selection and I don't care.

But now a heavy fog rolled in here and our luncheon is delayed by some moronic Food Network malfunction. I didn’t pack my lunch, I’m hungry and I want some freaking pasta. I brought the chips and queso dammit, but now the estrogen hammer completely wrecked the lunch and my glory.

THANK YOU ATTENTION PRICENSS. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED NAPLAMING MY LUNCH. HAPPY *%#@&*% HALLOWEEN.