The Ultimate Picnic

We used to be charged $5 to attend the government summer picnic. Being single I had to pay $5, yet a man with a party of five was charged the same rate. Let’s see, in accounting he paid $1 per person and I paid five, and he makes more than me for a lousy 46 bills a year. I have 750 and we’ve yet to hear of a computer. Come on, I still had a Rolodex.

I’m all for fairness. This is getting ridiculous, as single women do not get raises, are not treated fairly, and are propositioned all the time. Plus I had 3-10 times the bills to care for and no computer so everything was done by hand.

Our picnic was rained out. Deluge. We agreed that we would hold it indoors in the building’s conference room, not pay, and bring our own food.

There were paper tablecloths. Our team brought a linen tablecloth and napkins, plus silver candle-holders and candletsticks and fine china and wine. We each made something to contribute to the team, oh we even had fine silver ware and china and crystal serving devices for our culinary contributions.

The other teams got fast food. I only remember making a chilled cucumber/yogurt soup as a starter but there must have been more. It was a turnaround in my work life as people found me a force to be reckoned with and not the shy girl from the country. Word got around, and no elected official ever propositioned me again.

There were no plastic ants on the cake. I regret that they felt it necessary to break us up into teams because Mom had a silver punch server by then so I got her old glass one. It would have been nice if we could have made a party together. We were all friends, it was HR who dominated this event every year and probably made a kickback from our contributions to the caterer.

We made a statement. I made a statement. Soon after I left for greener pastures. They were not green. Double the money, my own office and a horrific boss. So I quit and went to cooking school, spent my life savings. It was worthwhile.  Cook something! Dee

 

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