Any time between 4 and 6 p. m. in my office is just before we start getting into the thick of things. Suddenly, there is a crackling sound, that of a pack of snacks being ripped open impatiently. It may be plastic, but it's the sound of music, a very welcome interruption from the monotony. Sometimes the music could be metallic - it could be the clink of a spoon against a steel container.
If you haven't called out to your colleagues asking them to join you, never fear, they will come soon enough. "Ah, I hear plastic," says A (name changed and fake initial given to protect identity). She takes very little, snipping off just a piece of the fried treat, and retreats to her desk, thanking the donor profusely.
B (name changed, etc etc) will not only come over, she will take a little more, appreciate the snack, its taste, its energy-/happiness-giving qualities, the donor's generosity and thoughtfulness for bring a bit of golden-fried goodness into a dull day, hover a bit relishing the taste and reluctantly depart to her own cubicle.
Then there's C (name changed, okay, all names changed) who will rise out of her seat in the next bay with a joyful smile, bite into it, analyse it, appreciate it, discuss the recipe with the donor, thank them once again and sit down, the smile lingering on.
If you haven't called out to your colleagues asking them to join you, never fear, they will come soon enough. "Ah, I hear plastic," says A (name changed and fake initial given to protect identity). She takes very little, snipping off just a piece of the fried treat, and retreats to her desk, thanking the donor profusely.
B (name changed, etc etc) will not only come over, she will take a little more, appreciate the snack, its taste, its energy-/happiness-giving qualities, the donor's generosity and thoughtfulness for bring a bit of golden-fried goodness into a dull day, hover a bit relishing the taste and reluctantly depart to her own cubicle.
Then there's C (name changed, okay, all names changed) who will rise out of her seat in the next bay with a joyful smile, bite into it, analyse it, appreciate it, discuss the recipe with the donor, thank them once again and sit down, the smile lingering on.
D will worry about her weight, will be persuaded to have some, will have just a bit and then within 10 minutes, will be back at the donor's cubicle foraging for another.
Then there are those who walk by, driven there by happy happenstance, eat their fill, shower their blessings on the donor and move on. Of course, there are those who decline the snack too, but it never fails to bring in an extra bit of happiness into the atmosphere.
Depending on the person, the happiness is just a little dulled when the snack on offer is 'healthy' - like sundal, or fruit or oil-free food. Sweets and cakes are extra-happy-making, as are banana chips brought back by someone who has just returned from a holiday in Kerala. Sometimes prasadam from various religious places makes the rounds; sometimes it's chocolates brought from a jaunt abroad. (That's prasadam too, in my book.)
Sometimes, there's a repeat performance a few hours later, and then it's time to wind up and leave. Which of the above types are you? Are you a donor, a taker or both? What's your favourite office/tea time snack?
Musings Humour Snacks