For my office’s holiday potluck party, I contributed a giant-sized side of chips and my homemade guacamole. I’ve been making it for a few years now, and all my friends and acquaintances seem to like it fine, and I happen to think it’s pretty decent too. But it was to the test, being served up to 30 or so of the people in the company I’m currently working for. It was during this test that I kind of learned that maybe it’s pretty good on a slightly larger scale sample.
One of the IT guys is Spanish. I have no idea to what his specific ethnicity is, but it’s clearly Spanish. At one point, as he was going through the line, he remarked about how there was guacamole available, and asked who made it. I said that I did, and watched as he took a heaping serving of it, with a fistful of chips. I told myself “man, I hope he likes it,” which was a relative feeling, but applied more to this guy because he was Spanish and much like people would assume of my judgment of Korean food, I was hoping my guacamole would warrant his seal of approval.
During the cleanup process, IT Spanish rushes into the conference room, with a last-second hoarding of leftovers on his mind. He grabbed a plate and began scrounging through the vast remnants, and suddenly, he’s asking me where the guacamole went. I had already sealed it and was about to put it back to the fridge, but evidently, he wanted more. I reopened it, and once again, he took another generous serving, along with more chips. It was the only non-sweet item he bothered to get before rushing back to his office.
I can’t help but feel kind of validated when it comes to my guacamole now, because of the evident approval it got from an actual Spanish person. It makes me feel kind of good to know that.
Otherwise, I can’t really say I’ve felt much throughout the last week or so, odd as that sounds. A few annoyances here and there, disappointment at a few things, and abject animosity towards the homeowners’ association that has the gall to charge dues, despite the fact that a large populous of my neighborhood has been confirmed to not pay theirs either. One household’s dues do not an entire neighborhood’s requirements meet. So a lot of irritants, and not a whole lot of really good things, but that’s kind of the norm for a jaded person like me.
Other things that have been worth mentioning as, well, retarded:
- People who stand in front of the elevators but don’t actually press an up or down button, but are waiting for elevators
- People who break the rules of the men’s room and out of three urinals seem to always take the middle, regardless of if there’s a man at #1 or #3 already present
- But mostly the homeowners association dues that are kind of throwing a financial monkey wrench into my plans this weekend
At least I’ll get to sleep in in my own bed this weekend. Otherwise, I can’t really complain with life, I guess. Quiet, boring, especially boring at work, but not overall poor.
