Context: A remote employee decided to spearhead the birthday celebration for our manager (Hi, Trasherati!). As you will discover, said has a…passion for having things done a certain way.
I was volunteered to collect the money for the gift and procure the cake. L. is another coworker who, unlike me, has the event planning gene and was good enough to take over local event planning for this extravaganza that, by the way, our manager hates the very idea of.
Coworker: Jagosaurus, u there?
Jagosaurus: Hi.
Coworker: With M.’s extra $10, can you get a decent cake at Whole Foods? They have some great ones.
Jagosaurus: L. and I are taking care of the cake. Actually, L. is taking care of the cake.
Coworker: Okay, Whole Foods? If not, I have to contact her.
Jagosaurus: Maybe. Or Wegmans.
Coworker: Yuck on Wegmans. Whole Foods uses better stuff.
Jagosaurus: Manager likes Wegmans.
Coworker : That’s gross. I’ll handle it.
Jagosaurus: Uh, no. L. and I can and will take care of this.
Coworker: Manager has had bad cakes from there enough. And everyone else.1
Coworker: She can try something better.
[silence from me]
Coworker : How do I effect power at 3,000 miles?
Jagosaurus: Not very well, I suspect.
Coworker: I’ve tried cooperation.
Coworker: I can threaten.
Coworker: Take my marbles home. Hmm, I am home.
Jagosaurus: Uh, okay.
Coworker: Hope you know I’m kidding.2
Jagosaurus: I suspected as much.
Coworker : Okay, tell L. what I suggest. I’ll have to leave it to y’all.3
Jagosaurus: I don’t give a damn about the cake. I mentioned Wegmans because Manager likes Wegmans. A lot. I don’t have a dog in this fight, though, since the cake isn’t for me.4
Coworker: Seriously, anything is fine.
Jagosaurus: Okay. I’ll follow up with L. this afternoon or tomorrow.
Coworker: But there’s a couple of great cakes over at WF. Okay, thanks.
Sweet Jesus. Go ahead and learn the hard way that badgering me to do something a certain way does not work. And then step the hell off.
1. Right. Which is why our manager recommended Wegmans when I gave her the heads up about this event.
2. Except that you’re not. I know enough about you to know that.
3. That’s right. You will.
4. Nor is it for you, Coworker. You’re not even going to be here.
Comments (21)
<rant>
In the UK, they have this tradition of passing around a card to sign. Discreetly, though, so recipient doesn’t know that the tradition that happens for everyone’s birthday isn’t happening for theirs. So here you are, presented with a card to sign something stupid like “Best Wishes!” or some trite tripe. And, as the Birthday Problem tells us, you only need a couple dozen people involved before you have to do this crap every single $%*@ week, and most of the time, unless you’ve worked there for a decade, you’re signing a card for someone you don’t know. It’s like all the awkwardness of yearbook signing, but for adults…and sometimes they ask for cake donations. It’s absolutely horrible.
I love Trasherati as much as the next guy who’s never met her, but ugh! Birthday celebrations should be kept out of the workplace.
</rant>
P.S. Happy birthday, ‘rati!
Erik: Dude. I am so with you on this. We have to do the birthday card dance too. Fortunately, L. is also taking care of that because she has, like I said, the event planning gene.
I don’t even like signing a card for people I do know. Thoughtfulness is waaaaaaaay overrated.
I wish everyone could have seen Trasherati’s face when I told her what was going on. Absolute horror.
But have you tried this really great trick?? You can hide the card in a MANILA FOLDER!
I like to think I’m fairly on the ball, but I can never think of anything to say when it’s my turn to sign the stupid card. I fret. It’s important that my comment be better than everyone else’s.
Coworker: Seriously, anything is fine.
Whew, is it passive-aggressive in here, or is it just me?
Jag, maybe it’s the late hour (or maybe it’s the raging flu), but for a moment I read your remark We have to do the birthday card dance too as referring to an actual dance. In the space of a moment, I imagined a gaggle of office workers dancing in a desultory fashion as they present the birthday honoree with a group card.
And I was all “Man oh man, I have got to get an office job one of these days!”
Okay, I was half all that and half all “Yeesh, I’m glad I don’t have an office job, if it entails obligatory desultory dancing.”
Yes, in a moment, I imagined all that, and had that internal conversation. In a moment, I tells ya.
Marigoldie: Oh, the manila folder. I dread it’s arrival on my desk because it means guaranteed and obligatory failure to be clever.
Elsa: HAHAHAHAHA. There’s no actual dancing. Yet. And yeah, it was a bit passive-aggressive.
Years ago, in another job, the manager of my department decided to throw a baby shower for a guy in our department. He was a generally uncomfortable and awkward person and so was she. In fact, neither was liked very much throughout the organization and they couldn’t even stand each other. So naturally she forced this party on us and particularly on him and then, to make it worse, composed a (terrible) song about the baby and made copies so we could all sing it with her. Because that’s FUN! It was so deeply awkward that even now, 7 years later, it makes me uncomfortable.
Stuff Whole Foods!
Wegman’s, all the way.
I live in a Wegman’s-deprived state. We have to cross state lines to get to Food Nirvana.
Well, maybe not Nirvana.
This place is Food Nirvana. It’s worth driving to Cincy. I’m not lying. It’s like the DisneyWorld for food. They even have Croatian beer! and the bathrooms!?
But, that’s an edible tangent I apologize for.
Wegman’s!
DarkoV: Oh my god. Jungle Jim’s looks awesome.
We do the Card thing, too. I’m pretty sure it’s not just a British affliction.
I don’t let anybody know when my birthday is. No card, no “decorated” cube, and no CostCo cake.
Yay for being…secretive/surly/subtle/a shithead.
To make it even more awkward, if that is AT ALL POSSIBLE, is the fact that this group KNOWS that I don’t do the birthday card dance. That tradition was in place when I took over this little duchy, and I quickly scrapped it. Because ya’ know, it’s just not one of my job duties, yet everyone acted as if it were the primary indicator of whether I was a good manager or not.
So I made a very public announcement that I would no longer do the Dance of the B’day Card. And we moved on. I THOUGHT.
So now I don’t do the dance for anyone else, so imagine how gracious I’m going to have to be when the dance is done for me, by a large team under duress from a few well-meaning colleagues.
If someone would kindly shoot me between now and Thursday, please.
DarkoV: I love me some Wegmans. It is not just a grocery store – it is a shopping DESTINATION.
Trasherati: The fact that you declared that YOU would not instigate it affords you no protection whatsoever against overbearing, passive aggressive social planners.
Also, remember to act surprised tomorrow!
p.s. The cake is not from Whole Foods or Wegmans.
Long ago and far away I was once asked to jump out of a cake at a women only party…
I have always (sort of ) regretted not doing it. For me then, the word “cake” brings back memories of lost opportunity (and lost youth). I would gladly come out of retirement however for Trasheratti’s birthday party… And crawl out of the cake and try to stand.
DarkoV, I have been going to Jungle Jim’s for many years when I visit my family in Hamilton. It’s quite an experience. Next time I’ll have to get some Croatian beer.
Jag, may I request a Hostess cupcake with an Ogre on top? That would please me greatly.
Trasherati: I’ll see what I can do.
So there’s no jumping, right?
Just to dispel any lingering doubt that might exist anywhere, Trasheratti is the perfect woman. She is stunningly beautiful, mind like a steel trap, faster than lightning, and able to give birth and make cookies while changing an oil filter.
Ogre & Trasherati: GET A ROOM.
Marigoldie:
You are a very lucky or blessed or both kind of person to be able to go to Jungle Jim’s whenever the hell you want to. Actually, when I think about it, you’re not blessed. You’re cursed! If you can sashay to Jungle Jim’s any day of the week, it means that you’re in Heaven already! Soooooo, if you’re not living life on the straight and narrow, how will you be going to JJ when your toes curl up? Me? Ever since my gastronomical conversion at Jungle Jim’s, I’m living the life of a saint (which means all my friends and family think I’m a regular PITA). So, Buck up and Live the Clean Life if you want to be shopping at JJ when you pass on.
Oh, the Croatian beer? They have it, but I beg you not to buy any. The Croatian beer doesn’t taste good in Croatia (personal experience…way too much personal experience). Transporting it here in hot freighters and tractor-trailers does not improve the taste. My exuberant “Jungle Jim’s has Croatian beer” was not an attempt to persuade anyone to actually but and drink some. I’d stick with the Czech beer if I were you.
Uuuum, I don’t know about Wegmans…but, am I correct in assuming that it’s like the best food store ever?
And, am I also correct in wishing Trasherati a very (belated) Happy Birthday?? I should go over to her place and see if she’s posted anything new….I hope so!
I would feel obligated to take a picture of a really sad, really chain store looking cake and email it to the out of town co-worker with a note that said, “See, we did just fine.” Or something to that effect. I might even need to have a Wal-Mart sticker showing on the cake plastic.
Then there’s the card designer’s private hell. If you know how to cartoon, hide your talent. (in my case, was pretty hard to do at an animation studio) I wish I had a penny for every coworker’s bday card I was obliged to design at my last office job— on my own time. I’d own the company.