Let them eat cake

more or less what was in the box

Outtakes from the little gathering to celebrate the Officer positions they handed out like candy this year.

A celebration, because it’s a really big deal. In a very Honorary kind of way.

And because if there’s one thing we – an office full of people watching their weight – need, it’s a gigantic cake.

My boss comes in with a blue box in hand. She sits down at the conference table, and I walk over and ask what she has. She just looks at me stupidly, and says nothing. A minute later the next manager who had a staffer get an Officer appointment comes in, and he also has a box. And only then do I “get it” — it’s a gift for me. For us, we’re all getting one. Oh, right. Duh.

The head of the group gives a little speech, which is not intended to last long because they want to let us all get to the cake. (I turn to the girl next to me, who’s a friend of mine, and whisper, “Let them eat cake?” She laughs.)

They hand out the gifts, one by one. Each of us gets a sentence-worth of accolade. As my boss says the nice thing about me, I blush crimson, and can’t look up. Because apparently I can’t receive praise. Or have a room full of people look at me. (This from someone who gives presentations as part of her job. Lovely.)

So we all get these boxes, and while cake is being sliced and handed out, none of us opens them. No one wants to be the first. The girl next to me also got a Title, so she leans over and asks me, “What do you think it is?”  I know it’s probably a folio or a plaque or something. “A box of work,” I joke. She giggles. I don’t think anyone else is listening, but a minute later it’s going around the table.

I really need to keep my mouth shut if I don’t want all my colleagues to know I’m such a smartass inside. And I have to not sit next to my friends at business meetings; I’ll get myself into trouble.


About aka gringita
Flotsam generator. Amateur photographer. Avid traveler. Christ follower.

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