Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t get up with the community food at work. You know, when someone brings some ish from home and leaves it on the break room table for everyone to share. I need some kind of certification that that ish won’t give me rot gut or something. The only way I’ll eat from an office pot luck lunch is if the food arrived at the function in a sealed box that was opened in front of me—basically it needs to come straight from the grocery store, or it better be delivery. Otherwise ya girl ain’t eatin it. Nope. I’ll stick with what I brought thankyouverymuch.
One of my NAOWL co workers has brought tomatoes from her garden every day for the last week and a half or so, expecting people to rush over and start making salads and what not. The *ahem* others keep falling for the okie doke, but I know better. I don’t know what kind of environment people bring this mess from. One lady who brings stuff in all the time tells everyone about her 6 or 7 cats and how they have free reign all over her house and they walk on the stove sometimes. Now really, how do you put it together in your head that people will want to eat the food that you cook knowing that Fluffy and Tabby have tracked their cat business all over your counters and stove?
There’s been an outbreak of some kind of stomach bug for the last couple weeks, and people can’t seem to understand why. Me and the other sane people haven’t eaten any of the shared food, and we’re fine. About the random tomatoes, people keep saying “Noooo, those couldn’t have made me sick. They were grown right out of her garden. Right out of a natural garden. Nooooo. Those aren’t tainted. She uses Mirac.le Gr.o…”
But yall, this is what she brought in, and what most of her tomatoes have looked like:
Hell to the nawl. I’m not messing with it.