Tales from the Fruitcart: Trouble Ensues When the Fruitcart is Forgotten

Liz reports on her day pushing the fruitcart, dispenses some career advice, and reminds us all of the importance of dressing appropriately for the occassion.


Twice a year every employee in my office (except the really important ones and the lowly ones who stuff envelopes in the printing room) dispenses free fruit to all the other employees. If done correctly this is an opportunity to "manage up" without looking like a brown nose and a chance to show how benevolent you can be to those who are below you (in my case, only the envelope stuffers are below me).



Despite knowing for weeks that today was my turn, I forgot to wear my cherry sundress or fruit shaped earrings, and instead am dressed in a ratty tee shirt and dirty jeans. Needless to say, this did not bode well for "managing up," although I fit right in with envelope stuffers.



Nonetheless, I tried my best and was all ready to be witty and cheerful and show off my "natural leadership skills" when I rounded the corner where our new CEO sits. But instead of pushing the cart with confidence and grace, I crashed it into her computer. This would have been bad enough, but it got worse when another employee, who sits across from the CEO, called me a "bad penny." The CEO said I could throw one of the tomatoes at her (which is an example of her effectively being benevolent to someone below her). I restrained the impulse to comply and, instead pretended to shoot the 'bad penny' person with a banana. I think this could have been "witty" except that I sort of stumbled backwards over some cords at the same time. So then I didn't know if they were laughing because I was successfully engaging in office banter, or because I tripped.



After failing at "managing up" I went to the fourth floor where the envelope stuffers reside and tried my hand at being benevolent. I was going along fine – telling them to take extra bananas or to try the grapes. I even picked up a paper plate that one of them dropped and handed them a new one. Then, as I was smugly leaving, thinking that I was a very nice fruit cart pusher, this guy with a limp had to chase me down because I missed him. To make matters worse, I think he'd been shouting at me to wait but I hadn't heard him (it is hard to hear down there with all the printing presses whirring), and another person had to flag me down for him before I realized what was going on.



I apologized, but this clearly did not compensate for the bad karma I had created for myself, because just as I was going into the kitchen to put the remaining fruit away and end my misery, I got stuck. This was no normal, fruit cart jammed in a tight spot stuck. Oh no. My belt loop got hooked on door handle so that I couldn't move away from the door. It took me a couple pulls before I realized what was going on, and then once I had, I had trouble wiggling free. Even though no one saw me (I hope) it was all very embarrassing.



So much for using fruit cart duty as a way to get on the "fast track" program and be promoted.

Weekend in D.C.

At some point we run out of excuses, that is to say, excuses that hold water, as to why we aren't updating our blog. It really boils down to an unlikely combination of business and laziness.
I was in D.C. this weekend visiting Liz and my mom. I witnessed first hand Liz trying salad. Some people take her forrays into salad eating too seriously. It's salad, people, not a psychological problem. That being said, she pulled the oldest manuever in the book on me-- the old bait and switch.
At brunch, on Sunday, where we've both ordered the mesclun greens:
L: Andrea, will you switch with me? Yours is smaller.
Me: Um, sure.
As we switch, Liz throws some salad on the ground, making her portion smaller yet. She caused a ruckus by asking the next table over for pepper for her salad. By the time this had all taken place, our entrees had arrived, so she could push her salad away without guilt. She later pointed to the salad on the ground and said, "Andrea, why are you dropping your salad on the ground? Maybe it's you who doesn't eat salad!" And of course the only person who mattered that day, Mother's Day, believed her and the whole charade. Sigh.
We went to the National Zoo to see the baby panda. I thought some people might have some questions about what to wear to the zoo (a la the turtleneck post) in order to impress the animals. If you have such a question, post below in the comments and I'll get back to everyone with some smart replies.

Amazing Race

I've often noticed that if I have to go without something, or give something up, I usually fare well and don't miss it-- it's never as traumatic as it seems it will be. I recently took a pay cut of 10%, but some twists and changes to my budget (and, um, the Lenten no-shopping fast) has actually put me in better financial state than I was previously. The same with tv. At some point in college (around the time my family moved and decided not to get cable) I gave up tv, and found that there were plenty of other things to do with my life, plus I didn't have to worry about conflicting a tv show with some other plan, and I didn't need to learn how to record a show. All was good until I started watching Lost with my roommates last year. It was captivating and it's return this year meant that I had standing plans with the tv on Wednesday nights. Once the evening was already blocked off, I realized the tv could be on before Lost, and no great harm would be done. And so it happened that G and I started watching The Amazing Race. I found I could somehow identify with the average couples participating in the show-- the young, nerdy couple, the mom and daughter team, the best friends who always wore pink...G and I would find ourselves asking, "What if we were on the Amazing Race?" We decided to test our mettle by taking a one-day trip to NYC last Saturday.
Challenge 1: Waking up at 5:30 to get on the 7:30 am bus to New York
Outcome: Success, and, due to remembering snacks, staved off grumpiness for a few hours
Challenge 2: At 10:30 am arrival, onset of grumpiness by A leads to quickly identifying coffee and breakfast
Outcome: Semi-success as Little Italy cafe served us a once frozen croissant, and charged us for the tip, but caffeine intake nipped grumpiness in the bud
Challenge 3: G's feet start to hurt around 1:30, in Union Square
Outcome: Success-- G brought now fewer than 3 changes of socks
Challenge 4: Identify and shop at store Mexx
Outcome: Failure! Address and cross streets A had written down didn't exist
Challenge 5: Identify restaurant for dinner with limited map
Outcome: Success, but barely. A hates asking for directions but finally capitulated to G's urging to call the restaurant. Restaurant was delightful, and drinks and apps refreshed our spirit.

We dozed off and on until we arrived back in Boston around midnight. A wonderful and full day was had by us both, as well as realizing that we could survive the Amazing Race after all.