Somewhere at the top of my list of things I hate are pot lucks and pushy people. When the two come hand in hand it's all I can do to keep a civil tongue in my head.

There's a man I work with who is constantly trying to organize pot lucks here. He's under the impression that these dinners will make us a tighter-knit group. Well, I've got news for him: he's been trying for three years and it's not working! We've always been the most quiet and most independent shift of the four. We're all happy to go our separate ways for our dinner breaks, me most of all!

The last time we had a pot luck was about 4 months ago. It was okay. It was a cultural thing where we had to bring a dish that displayed our heritage. I brought Swedish meatballs. Since I don't cook, I simply bought 2 family size boxes of Marie Calendars Swedish Meatballs and nuked them before I came in. I hated every second of it.

Now he's back on the pot luck train but this time he wants to get a giant sub sandwich for which everyone has to pitch in $3 PLUS bring a side dish. I'm all for the giant sammich but I'm not to keen on bringing a side. If he's collecting $3 from everyone, that should be enough to supply the sandwich, chips and drinks! I said I'd participate and even thought of wrangling my Dad into making his World Famous Sopapilla Cheesecake and bringing that as my side. But the more I think about it, I don't wanna.

Tonight he sent his trainee, who I actually like in normal situations, around to tell everyone that he expected the $3 to be given to him TONIGHT! When she went up to Prescilla, she actually said, "Mike needs your $3 by tonight." No asking, no please, just a demand. Prescilla told her "No. I'll bring it Saturday since the pot luck isn't until Sunday. He doesn't need it before then!" Go Prescilla!!

Then it was my turn. She came up and said, "Will you be bringing your $3 tomorrow?" Now, I'm in the grip of what is commonly known as Three Days Before Pay Day Blues. That consists of one major factor: I HAVE NO MONEY! I'm usually a pleasant person and try my best to be nice to everyone but when these Blues hit, I can be a little sharp. I simply barked out "No!" She looked shocked and asked if I was planning on participating. I told her yes but that I had no money and wouldn't be able to bring it in until Saturday. She seemed to accept my answer and turned to walk away. Then she turned back and said, "You don't even have three dollars?? You must really be poor."

I wanted to say, "Look! Some of us don't have a sugar daddy husband who'll buy us brand new cars with heated seats or $800 gold and emerald rings (she just recently acquired both of those. Or 3 if you count the sugar daddy!). Some of us have to eat and pay rent and buy gas, thank you very much and DO NOT have the money nor inclination to participate in your trainers idea of a good freakin' time!!!" But I didn't. I merely smiled and said, "Yep. Pretty broke."

What really gets my goat about this whole pot luck thing is that Mike (who I blogged about last year as the guy who said he was afraid to talk to me because I always looked mad!) is trying so hard to play up the angle of togetherness for his reasoning behind these stupid dinners and he never talks to a single soul! It's irritating!!

Betcha couldn't tell that, could ya? :)

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