OMG, I just read that poor guy’s piece about being called “Cupcake,” and I had to share this. No, I’m not being called anything resembling a pastry by my coworkers, but this, if you’re more concerned about your purse than your persona right now like I am, is worse. And I’m totally obsessing over it.
Okay, it starts with me filling you in on the very best part of my day, which is very distinct and consistent—no matter what goes down that day. It’s one, ice-cold milk chocolate buttercream from See’s Candies. (See here—don’t they look delicious?) I eat one, and only one, everyday around 3:00 with my afternoon coffee. It’s a little slice of heaven that helps me gear up for the remainder of my day.
I’ve worked in New York for the past four years since I got married, and I get the chocolates shipped from home (San Diego) once a month because I don’t go for those ridiculous Russell Stover chocolates. Chalk it up to an East coast vs. West coast thing, but I take my chocolate very seriously.
Personally, I think they taste better out of the fridge, but that’s a matter of opinion. What is a matter of fact, however, is that they are MINE, MINE, MINE!
My name appears on the box in three (count ‘em, THREE!) places. The box is mostly white, and I mark my name with a red sharpie. There’s no way you could miss it. In fact, the man who takes my chocolates hasn’t missed my name. He sent me a note reminding me to replenish the supply!
Normally, I’d tell him to knock it off, but the chocolate thief isn’t just any shmo, he’s the managing partner. Apparently, he’s from California too. And I guess he misses his beloved See’s Candies as much as I do. That’s why he’s been helping himself to my stash.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: This is great news. I have an in, right? I have a reason to talk to him and a chance to make a name for myself.
WRONG!
I’m a staff attorney, and there’s just no way that this firm is going to put a staff attorney on what’s left of the partner track. I’m lucky to have a job at this point. We all are. So, I have no desire to complain to anyone about it but you. I just can’t believe that this guy keeps on taking my stuff, my chocolate, and he’s got the nerve to demand more. His last note even suggested I order a box of truffles instead!
Am I his dealer now or something?
I’ll probably cave. But this is going to get expensive, especially at the rate he goes through chocolate. I could likely spend over $2,000 this year on chocolate for this guy, and that’s before factoring in the shipping and handling, let alone my sanity.
My husband told me to just shut up and think of it as a toll—the cost of working there. But that’s crap. Nobody else has to kickback to keep their job, and staff lawyers, even at a big firm, don’t make as much as you think, so it’s not like I can just laugh it off. It would be different if he ever just asked. I definitely would mind as much.
I suppose I just could bring a mini-fridge of my own and keep it under my desk, which (ironically) would be like how the diabetic attorney down the hall keeps his insulin, but I shutter at the idea of being laid off and having to make a scene by hauling that thing out to the elevator. Not to mention, this partner obviously now has expectations of having a See’s stash available to him.
I’ll definitely be anonymously dropping a See’s catalog on his secretary’s desk.
