Every Friday morning, we have our department meeting. It's a happy time, since it has been decided since oh, forever, that staff members would bring "treats" in every Friday. We have a treat schedule, and it is one of the most monitored documents we have as a department. Normally, meetings seem to go on forever, and this is the only, and I mean only thing that will get us through. When you have to listen to the Renegade blabber on and on about random telephone calls she made during the week, it drives even the health nuts to grab a donut and chow down. Go figure.
So treats are a big deal. A lot of planning goes into the process, and I will never forget the first time I was assigned to treat duty. No one eats breakfast because they know a nice one will be waiting for them at their Friday morning meeting. There have been full spreads of bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns on warming plates, homemade biscotti and scones, fresh bread with different spreads and jellies, thing like that. It's a big fucking deal and we all like to eat. We EXPECT a good breakfast on Friday.
Picture this: It's Friday morning, and everyone is in the meeting room awaiting food. The meeting cannot start until we have a plate of food in front of us. Who is in charge? We are seven minutes past the meeting start time. There is no food. You see, the person in charge of bringing in our lovely breakfast is the extra guy that has been "loaned" to us for two years now. Apparently, his employer hasn't missed him, and is willing to continue paying his salary while works for someone else. My humble opinion is that this employee is worthless and the company he works for is so sick of him, they are happy as little larks just not having him around. Forget his salary, they don't have to deal with his sleeping on the job and continuous cell phone chatter while he bothers to be awake.
Finally, (not to mention 7 minutes late) this guy comes in with a paper grocery bag. Hey, at least he didn't forget to bring something...we wonder what it could be? The humble presentation turns out to be two containers of nuts. One being an already opened package of mixed nuts, the other, the largest can of honey roasted peanuts I have ever seen in my life. Both are generic. Nuts! That's what I had for breakfast this morning! A big handful of generic nuts, that have already been finger fucked by people I do not know!
As I was looking at my bowl of nuts (hey, I was hungry and didn't have any other options), I noticed the Brazil Nut. I was planning on eating all the other nuts, and throwing the Brazil Nuts away. I don't like Brazil Nuts. I don't know anyone that likes Brazil Nuts. But whenever I have seen a jar of mixed nuts, they are always there. Are they there because they're big and cheap and just fill up space? Cashews are too expensive, so they add more Brazil Nuts? Or is it just a joke? Ha! You got stuck with a bunch of Brazil Nuts! I dare you to eat the bastard nuts! Or...is it a last ditch effort by grandparents to have a topic of conversation about the way things were and say, "When I was your age, I called those nuts 'Nigger Toes'!!"? It seems to me Brazil nuts have been kept around by cheap, boring old fogies that want to save money and have something to talk about.
And then I came to this conclusion: The guy who brought the nuts is our Brazil Nut. No one really wants him, he's cheap, but in the long run, he makes great conversation. Instead of Kinky Boots, we have the Brazil Nut to make fun of.
Things could be much worse.