The Desk Chair: Tea Time

My dear friend Molly, who currently resides in the United Kingdom, suggested I make a wee posting on tea. I will oblige. Noblesse oblige. Cheryl Tiegs. Cheryl... Tea-gs? This is weird. 

Anyway, I have a complicated relationship with tea. As a devoted coffee drinker, my usual attitude is that of quiet indifference. But as a singer, an Anglophile, and a quasi-adherent to natural remedies, I occasionally feel a strong compulsion to partake. Have I been seen purchasing absurdly expensive teas from my local health food store? Yes, yes I have. Did I have a tea set as a child? You betcha. Have I turned to tea in times of crisis? Absolutely. 

Actually, the more I think about, tea has actually played quite an important role in my life. And here I was thinking about it as nothing more than the lesser hot caffeinated beverage. Jokes aside for a minute, when I look back on a particularly horrible day in college when a serious tragedy caused a great deal of grief among my friends, one of the things I remember most vividly is gathering together and drinking tea. It was the only thing to do. It couldn't be coffee, it couldn't be food, but it had to be something. It never occurred to me how completely British that was. It's amazing the elements of culture we hang on to without even realizing it. Last Christmas, my mother was desperate for the perfect whistling tea kettle. I honestly can't picture my mother ever drinking a cup of tea. But something about a whistling tea kettle is comforting to her. Lately, when my hands have been cold here in the office, I've taken to getting myself a mug of tea. Less for drinking, more for hand warming. But it's always Constant Comment because it's the tea I grew up with (that I don't recall my mother ever drinking) and I find it soothing. (I also made a joke in the kitchen one day about loving it so much that I commented on it constantly. Only in a sterile office workplace would that joke kill. And it did.) 

The list goes on. On my 21st birthday, my parents took me to high tea at the Four Seasons in Boston- one of five memorable tiny-sandwich-tea-times I've experienced in my life. (Gross, how outrageously wasp of me.) In Indiana, my girlfriends and I had a cherished tradition (for like, a year) of Tuesday Night Tea. And obviously there's the whole Boston Tea Party/birth of America thing. Tea! It's everywhere!

Literally. I'm sure we would all have guessed that China is the world's top producer of tea (and, you know, everything else). But would you have guessed that Turkey and Iran also make the top ten? Or Kenya and Argentina? I would have ignorantly assumed it all came from countries in the Asia-Pacific area. But one thing is clear: from Chai to Oolong, from elaborate rituals to every day hospitality- we really are a planet obsessed with tea. Best sentence I've ever written? Probably.* 

Here's an important tea question: Do you believe that "herbal tea" counts as "tea?" I think the purist would make a distinction between real "tea" and "herbal infusions." This topic could get really complicated and I don't care enough to get into it. Peruse the Wikipedia article if you're feeling curious. (General heads-up, if you Google "tea," don't let the existence of the Texas Education Agency, or "TEA," confuse you. Do not pour boiling water over them.) 

Finally, I can't wrap this up without first sharing with you a tea that I HATE: Lapsang Souchong. It is vile. It's like someone liquefied a campfire, but in a bad way. My friend Carl loves it. Carl is an idiot. 

*Best sentence I've read recently: "After gaining 500 feet, I felt like an insect flying over an enormous conveyor belt in a croissant factory." George Steinmetz on sand dunes. 

The Desk Chair: The Feast

Ok, so the content of this post was not inspired by anyone's suggestion, but in a moment, you'll understand why there was no other option but to write the following. 

Today was the office's "family feast." Delicious Thanksgiving catering, an employee side-dish contest, and general (booze-free) merriment. Part of the party took place in the large conference room directly to my right. The boundary is a plate glass operation complete with large, plate glass doors. For the occasion, one of said doors was propped open for easier access to pie and comradery (by the way, look into the spelling of comradery if you feel like being confused).

Now, I can't even begin to explain why, but the presence of one shut door and one open door side by side really confused people. So much so, that one of the facilities guys... wait for it... walked directly into the closed door. I heard a sound that can only be described as a cartoon "boiiiiiing" and looked over to see a stricken Jose (name changed to protect the potentially mortified) rubbing his face and swallowing his pride. A contingent of marketing and HR girls who saw the whole thing go down were admirably stone faced as they asked whether he was okay. He was. Which is good because as soon as I saw the comical smear his face left on the glass, I couldn't contain my laughter. 

As soon as he was safely gone, I went in to the conference room to confirm that I had seen what I thought I'd seen. A fit of hysteria ensued, during which I learned that the whole situation was especially hilarious to the people in the conference room because someone else had done the same thing earlier... from the other side. 

The moral of the story? I have no idea. Two different dudes tried to walk through the same plate glass door today. That's all I got. 

Um, also: If you're wondering why a Google image search for "walking into glass door" gets you a bunch of pictures of Justin Bieber, this is why. 

The Desk Chair: Office Candy

My friend Jessi's suggestion to write something (anything) about food is particularly apt in this, the treat-filled holiday nightmare that is the American workplace from about October 30th to February 15th. In fact, not five minutes ago, I was told enthusiastically, "There are FULL SIZED candy bars in the break room!" I hung my head. It was hard enough surviving this week's onslaught of miniature Snickers and boxes of Munchkins without having to deal with anything bigger. Speaking of Munchkins ("doughnut holes," if you're some kind of freak who's never been to a Dunkin Donuts), are there people out there who genuinely enjoy them? Every time I have one, I'm disappointed... and then inexplicably want five more. Might as well just have a whole doughnut and experience the disappointment only once. 

Obviously, this won't be a post about healthy eating, even though I could say a lot of great things about the Whole Foods Cafe we're lucky enough to have at this office complex. That kind of thing is best left to Gwyneth Paltrow or Jessi Haggerty. Instead, as armchair temporary receptionists, I would like you to follow me on a brief and informal journey of exploration into the candy habits of the North American office worker. The following are three of my personal observations:

1. If you build it, they will come.  

Until yesterday, we had horrible candy at the reception desk. I mean, Smarties? Sure, that one IT guy loves them (he would), but everyone else walked by and said, "Ugh, no chocolate?" And yet, mysteriously, almost all of them would take something anyway. To me, suffering through a package of Smarties or, God forbid, a Tootsie Roll, is far worse than no candy at all. Not so for the people of this office. If it's there, someone will eat it. Granted, that's just true everywhere, always.

2. That one intern will take all the Peanut Butter Cups.

When delicious candy magically appeared in the reception bowl yesterday (which was November 1st, so obviously somebody had been hoarding the good stuff), I was eagerly anticipating a mid-afternoon Peanut Butter Cup. But then they disappeared, presumably into the gullet of the intern who covers my breaks. I've since discovered that he's also dipped into my desk walnuts. I sincerely hope they make his throat feel weird. 

3. Candy will continue to appear, even on November 2nd when you thought you were safe. 

When I started writing this post, the reception bowl was gone. I don't know how it happened, but somehow... it's back. I was ticked off. Then someone stopped to grab a piece and felt compelled to tell me my hair looked nice. Maybe the candy bowl isn't so bad. 

Some Other Things: 

An article about office candy from the Wall Street Journal.

Here are some people who have thought about office candy a lot. 

And finally, a candy quiz, just for fun. 

Thanks for the suggestion, Jessi! Keep 'em comin y'all!