Potluck Can Be Scary

For the second time this holiday season I am met with the question of whether or not I am behaving in a Scrooge-esque manner. This is the latest quandry:

I recevied an email this morning at work that was generated last week. I only got it today because I'm a contractor and most people don't know I'm here. It's much better that way, I'm not complaining one bit. Since most folks don't know I'm here they don't have my email address to invite me to a holiday potluck lunch and gift exchange with the people on my floor on Thursday. Here's the thing - I don't want to attend. Really. My reasons are many. Let's go over them quickly.

• 1) I've been in the womens' bathroom when several of the potluck participants have not washed their hands after doing their requisite business. That's nasty. There are many more who give their hands a little splash, but there is no friction involved and certainly no soap. Rinsing is not washing, people. If they do that at home I don't want to eat anything they may bring in for the potluck. The thought of what might be in those dishes makes me throw up in my mouth a little.


• 2) I know 5 people at this office (not counting my security guard buddies at the front desk downstairs). Those 5 people are sometimes cool, but most of the time not so much. Think Cuban Lady, Texas Lady and my boss, folks. I'm not looking to go out and spend time & money on a gift to exchange with any of them. Besides, I'd have no one to talk to at the lunch and would wish I was back at my desk the whole time.


• 3) I really don't have the money to go out and buy a $25 gift for a stranger. Plus, I don't want to. I hate forced gift-giving. I love to exchange gifts with family and friends and be involved in some sort of Secret Santa or Hanukkah Harry (you know you love it) with people I actually know. But not with these dirty-handed strangers.

So, here's the worst part - I just got another email with a spreadsheet attached listing everyone on the floor and what they're bringing for the potluck next to their name. If you haven't given your RSVP (like it's needed, puh-lease, they just assume everyone is coming) there's a blank space next to your name where presumably a food item of some sort should be residing. Which means, you guessed it, I've got a blank-blank-a-doo space next to my lovely moniker. Instructions state to fill in your spot and send it back to the writer. But the thing is, I'm not filling the damn thing out! No way. Not doing it.

Scrooge-esque? I don't think so. As Kristie said, "Maybe if they gave you benefits you'd think about going." As it stands now, I'll be at my desk for lunch on Thursday enjoying a lovely sandwich and maybe some Triscuits. Happy holidays to me.