The Pet Peeves of a Work Potluck

Today was our Super Bowl Potluck at work....

I hate potluck's at work. The simple reason is, it's a lot of work. We set up, we take down, we clean up, and finally I babysit. All of my pet peeves seemed to creep in and today I couldn't take it I had to give myself a timeout before I straight up judo chopped someone.

Let me explain babysit... pretty much there are those people at work that are first in line for EVERYTHING, and hover. I hate hoverers... (I don't think that is a word but whatever). Lets just say we are short staffed around here so the job of 3 is now the job of one. I am the one. So I'm trying to get all the food out and make sure everything looks great when Mr. Humpty Dumpty is all up in my business. I mean UP in my business. I swear he was smelling my hair (it probably smelled like meatballs so that's why he was smelling it). Does he offer to help me as as I struggle to carry the hot meatballs? Nope, just takes the lid off and proceeds to smell it WHILE I AM WALKING. I had the urge to trip myself and permanently scar his face with the meatballs but decided the meatballs deserved better than that! Then he opens the chips and takes a couple, takes a couple of veggies from the veggie tray, and then dips the veggies and the chips in the ranch. By now I'm losing it, but I hear my husband in the back of my head being the reasonable one. Then come the hot wings, the glorious hot wings. They smell great, but the pans they are in are hotter than Hades. Don't worry Humpty Dumpty you can just stand there watching three women struggle to lift the heavy cart they are on or struggle to carry them, because you'll be first in line. Then the best part of it is you ask if you can have bite. A BITE?! Its too late now, the anger and frustration are in the "warning" level. I decide how I'm going to answer this question, and in the space of .2 seconds I reply with:

"Only men who are gentleman get a bite, if maybe you would have helped me I would oblige but now I think you should stand at the end of the line, and hope that maybe you get half of wing."

I think he thought I was kidding, but I had that face that was far from kidding. He looks at me awkwardly and I'm like I'm serious, back of the line. I was sick of it, for the last two hours he did nothing but bother me. Oh to top it off the 2nd part of my pet peeve... he brought nothing to contribute. That's why it's called a potluck... you bring something if you eat something. So therefore, BACK OF THE LINE!! I mean you want to be first and have a bite without doing anything?! Freeloader!

Ok so there's my rant, did he go to the back of line? He tried, but ended up cutting in front of the oldest man that works here... I just kept envisioning me dumping a crockpot full of Little Smokies over his head and that helped me calm down a little. All I can say is watch out when there actually is a food shortage.

The saddest thing is this happens every month, every time he's hovering. I think maybe I'll sneak something in his drink or plate, maybe Exlax? No I got it, I'll made brownies out of dog food and only he gets them, it's like the movie The Help! What if?! Karma at it's finest...

All in a day's work...