Pollyanna Takes a Picnic

I got an email the other day that said something to the effect that my blog was always so mean and sarcastic and why don’t I ever write anything nice. Sooooo, today I’m going to write something nice.

Four of my coworkers and I, escape force ourselves to go out each Friday at lunch to bitch about work unwind at a local eatery/drinkery. We try a different place each week, anything from diners to pubs to ethnic cuisine to vegetarian buffets. The goal is to try something new every time and have a few pints laughs.

Today was such a gloriously beautiful day and, we figured, perhaps one of the few remaining gloriously beautiful days for the next few months, (birds singing, sun shining, leaves crunching, temperatures still hanging in at the double digits). So, we decided to have a picnic today instead of going to a restaurant.

We planned all week.

Lululemon Boy[1] brought his tiny BBQ, his ghetto suburb blaster and a stunning variety of tunes.

Nigel[2], our resident chef, and mascot, brought a tub of mayonnaise-free potato salad and a paper plate which he tried to convince us was an English frisbee.

 Uma[3] (who was in a sizzling hot competition with the stuff on the BBQ) and The New Boy[4] (who was too shy at first to have his picture taken) picked out some tasty hot sandwich fixings.

 And we all purchase the required beverages. (Because it’s important to stay well hydrated when spending time in the outdoors).

I was Pollyanna[5], chronicler of the event and disguiser of participants in the photos in case there’s a trial.

Here’s everybody waiting for stuff to warm up.

Mmmmmmm, starting to smell good!

Ready. (No, I didn’t eat any of the meat products. I had something just as good, though far less photogenic.)

We watched this guy for a while in his industrial leaf-blowing machine blowing leaves around. In a park. In the same spot. For an hour.

Then everyone started to get silly and danced around a bit. Then the conversation, like most conversations in situations like this turned to tattoos, piercings, kinky sex and whether or not it would be a good idea to pitch a tent.

Ahhh. Good times!

Before we knew it, it was time to go back to work.

That part of the picnic was too sad to capture on film.

 


[1] Not his real name, we mock him mercilessly because he’s so frightfully, frightfully macho, yet is giddily in love with his Lululemon sweater.

[2] Not his real name, but his evolving new look puts us in mind of some sort of high-brow British alternative rock musician and as far as we know they are all called Nigel.

[3] Not her real name, but she is tall and leggy and blond and likes to kick ass.

[4] Not his real name, but he’s only been working with us for a couple of months so we can’t be expected to remember his real name. We think it has a vowel in it.

[5] Not my real name, but I’ve adopted it for the day to help me be nice.

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32 responses to “Pollyanna Takes a Picnic

  1. Jobthingy – Ya! Good on us. We could be all boring and stuffy and eat lunch at our desks, but we hate our desks and life’s too short.

    Robin – Hey! It was our lunch hour which most of the time we don’t even take our full hour of and anyway we’re much more productive as a team when we engage in these sort of team-building things and go ahead an try not to pay your taxes.

  2. I’m shocked, shocked I say to think that the people keeping the government working would consume alcoholic beverages and then go back to work.
    Do you realize that over 50% of fatal ass on copier accidents involve drunkenness.
    I suggest you look into MADC, mothers against drunk copying and try to get into rehab before it’s too late.
    Our taxes will of course pay for the rehab.

  3. I’ll just write on the cheque “Not to be used for XUP’s shiftless lunches,” and then I’ll say “Use for good purposes only!”

    That oughtta work.

  4. Bandobras – Okay, first of all, we are in no way “drunken”. Government workers consume a great deal of alcohol on a regular basis, so a can or two WITH lunch isn’t even noticeable. Secondly, our photocopier never works and we’re far to lethargic to walk down the hall to use the other one.

    Robin – We pay for all our lunch consumables and non-consumables out of our own salaries. (contrary to popular opinion our salaries are on par or, in some cases, lower than equal positions in the private sector and our benefits are not as comprehensive as many private companies.) We have to pay for our own office Christmas parties, retirement parties and any other festive occasions. We buy most of our office supplies ourselves, too. We don’t have a lunch room or staff lounge so have to bring our own kettles, coffee, tea, etc., if we want a hot beverage. There is no Christmas bonus, no incentive bonus, no promotions based on merit, no fun business trips to exotic locations, we are not allowed to accept freebies or perks. We work with technology that is 10 years behind the rest of the world. We are forced to pay into a union that is virtually ineffectual. We never see the fruits of our labours since we are just tiny cogs in a humungous machine. Our jobs are reasonable secure compared to most people’s, but even that isn’t written in stone. I know you were just sort of goofing around, Robin, but I just wanted to assure you that a very tiny fraction of a fraction of your tax dollars ever ends up anywhere near us peons. All the real money goes toward annual elections, to Afghanistan, paying off corporate taxes and the executives.

  5. The pictures alone are laugh out loud funny. 🙂

    Someone said you’re mean and sarcastic? I guess they’ve never heard of irony.

    How ironic.

  6. Your writing is always mean and sarcastic? Perhaps. I have the tendency to unjustifiably envision the best of the people when reading their writing unless i am mad at them. Then I envision them relentlessly sarcastic haha. And public parks are always the most splendid place to speak of kinky sex.

  7. wow. that looked like a fun time. good idea, we should do that sometime. i don’t know that i’d make it back to the office however.

    for the record, i’ve never found your writings to be sarcastic and definately definately not mean.

  8. Annoying that you’re not in any of the pictures, disguised or otherwise. Annoyingly annoying. We have no real proof that you were actually there.
    Oh, I know the ‘vouchers’ (the ones drinking on their lunch “hour” in a public park) will step forward for you, but, hey – anyone could have taken (and then altered) those pictures.
    p.s. That blond lady is WAY better-looking than gawky Uma Thurman. Even after alteration.

  9. Geewits – Thanks. I don’t know what they were afraid of, but better safe than sorry, eh?

    Jo – Aw, some people just want to see nice blogs about charming children and helping people and Oprah and stuff.

    Aziza – Hey, where’ve you been? And, you may have a point – I don’t think they meant the comment in a mean way, actually – they were just offering a tip. I think.

    Raino – Thanks. Maybe I should try a little harder if no one is finding this blog mean and sarcastic; ‘cuz that’s what I’m sort of aiming for sometimes – ha ha. And, ya it’s always difficult to go back to the office on Friday afternoons. But we do it – even when no one is there to see us.

    JB – What a distrustful soul you are. If I tell you I was there taking the pictures, would that not be good enough for you? I mean, it’s me. If you can’t trust me, who can you trust? And, the “blond lady” will be thrilled that you think she’s hotter than Uma. But then again, you think Uma’s gawky, so I’m not sure how much of a compliment that ends up being??? Personally, I think the real Uma’s pretty damn hot.

  10. Sorry I haven’t been around, for all you know I could have died! I have a lot of blogging to catch up on. Be prepared! mwahaha

  11. Aziza – Uh-oh!!

    Ruhh – Beers? What beers? we only had ummm…errr… ginger ale and… errrr… fruit juices…ya, that’s it. (Not vegan because I do eat eggs and goat cheese but no dairy otherwise and no meat)

    Grandy – Any time, Grandy.

  12. Pardon my french but what the F**K is wrong with a blog being “mean and sarcastic “? Personally I use my blog fairly often as an outlet for my mean and sarcastic side. It’s where I can vent and not take it out on those I love. When I want nice and fluffy and sweet I grab the bag of Marshmallows. Then again, as my blog also points out I am also mean and sarcastic in action and deed, so I guess I’m just a cranky mean F’er…

    OK, that aside The BBQ looked awesome, I adore British Humour… ‘English Frisbee’ indeed! and as for your conversation of “kinky sex and whether or not it would be a good idea to pitch a tent”… my guess is if you were talking about kinky sex someone WAS probably pitching a tent… 😉

  13. Kitty – you’re a very clever kitty to catch the tent-pitching reference and yes, thank you, there’s nothing at all wrong with a mean sarcastic blog. I love reading mean sarcastic blogs and since I’m kind of mean and sarcastic in real life it would be difficult not to be mean and sarcastic on my blog

  14. Kitty – Yay for us!

    Jazz – Me too – that’s why I love both of you so much.

    Missy – It was pretty awesome.

    Robin – Thanks. That’s very kind of you. I knew deep down you were a good guy. We’ll buy pencils and maybe one of them wordprocessing thingies for the office so we can retire the typewriter.

  15. I love the disguises! And you can pretend to be Pollyanna anytime. You now have the official Pollyanna Rainbow Sunshine Seal of Approval for Impersonating Pollyanna.

    Which I just made up.

    But I’m sure my partner will concur.

    And as anyone who reads our blog regularly knows, both of us Pollyannas are mean and sarcastic on occasion.

    When we’re not blogging about kinky sex.

    Or cake.

    Or both.

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