Did You Wash Your Hands Though?
'Tis the season!
The Christmas tree lots are on the corner, the decoration storage bins have been pulled out the garage, and the outside holiday lights went up on a Tuesday. I hope you're not the household that OD'ed on the lawn decorations. Your house shouldn't look like it belongs on the Vegas strip. And don't be that trifling house that everyone in the neighborhood talks about because your lights are still up in February or God forbid for the remainder of the year 'cause you just being lazy.
As much as I enjoy this time of year, there are parts that are painful, and one part that I despise, no take that back, hate. Yes, I know that’s a strong word, but it applies.
I HATE HOLIDAY WORK POTLUCKS!
I wish they were forbidden by health codes, banned by HR departments, extinct like dinosaurs. If your place of employment is too cheap to have the departmental lunch catered by a restaurant then it shouldn't happen...point, blank, period. And before you pull the "you're being bougie" card, seriously I don't know if you wash your hands though. Some of y'all are a special kind of nasty and I got the receipts.
I've seen co-workers wash their hands with just water no soap, bring Starbucks into the restroom, bring and leave a dirty bowl into the bathroom, and leave their toothbrush on the sink as if they were at home. Some of the nastiest places I've seen are workplace kitchens. Filthy plates with crusty food remains left on the counter for months, containers left in the refrigerator so long that they could walk to my cube and offer to change the water cooler. You got 'dem type of habits and you think, I would voluntarily eat something you cooked? And those are the main ones offering to bring something. NO NOW! MAAAN, you got me twisted. I'd rather play Russian food roulette and eat those bacon-wrapped hot dogs off the carts (and those that know me, know I don't eat that s@#t). For real, I don't know what goes on in your home let alone your kitchen.
That meme about potluck phobia is real it's not just the Internets funny. You could be that person that cooks in your kitchen naked having your privates next to the food. I don't want my spaghetti seasoned by a nipple. Or you might think it's completely normal to soak your meats or vegetables in the bathtub ????? use your kitchen sink as a chafing dish, for your pet to sit on your counter like it's a chaise lounge, ????? or haven't cleaned your stove since Baby Bush was president. Like I said, I don't know what the hell is going on in your home (in my Ron Isley "Contagious" voice).
I would hope you are disgusted by what you just read. Just know if you're the person who coughs and doesn't cover their mouth, let's their pet kiss 'em in the mouth, and double dips the cooking spoon: dips it to stir, uses it to taste, and dips it again. All this applies to you too. I don't want your pathogens (yes, I know a fancy word for germs but I was raised by nurses I've been using the word since I was five). My family taught me at an early age, you don't eat everyone's cooking.
The day of the potluck best believe I've had breakfast and snacks prior to lunchtime. I'm not hungry and do not have to participate. I'll be there physically for the shin-dig but my stomach will not be present.
Like with everything there can be exceptions to the rule, and in my case there are two. If I know you, I mean really know you. Not the just "I eat lunch with you everyday" know you. I'm talking about I've been to your house, I've hung out at your house, I've watched you cook in your house, I've helped you cook in your house. Then and only then will I eat what you brought for the potluck. Just be prepared for the questions: a) what did you bring? and b) which container is yours? If you're really my folks you already know I require a detailed description. That shouldn't come as a surprise. I don't ever want to be caught out there not knowing when there's more than one dish of macaroni and cheese. The second exception is if it's store bought. I mean still in the container and hasn't been opened then and only then will I remotely consider partaking in the food festivities.
I know some of ya'll are judging me right now like this girl is neurotic as all get out. And the rest are nodding their heads in agreement with everything I said. Ya'll my peoples. We are peas and carrots, Forrest and Jenny.
So as you prepare the "for the office" dish and get excited about workplace holiday camaraderie, sacrifice your stomachs at your own risk. I won't be the one having bubble guts in the wee hours of the morning.
Happy Holidays!
Photo by © Michaela Begsteiger
