When I’m at work, only one thing causes a feeling of dread more than deadlines.
Team building exercises.
Tomorrow, we have a team building exercise. We’re going to race remote control cars. You know why I don’t play with remote control cars? BECAUSE I’M A FUCKING GROWN UP. That’s why.
No offense to you remote control car owners.
Anyway, we had a list of rules a mile long. We were divided into teams and instructed to contruct a logo and have t-shirts made (at our expense, of course) and give ourselves team names. And there was even a rule about penalties for cursing. my team is totally fucked. The only person at work who says fuck more than me is also on my team.
We decided we’d call ourselves The Rock Stars and then wear a shirt with a band on it. Fuck it. We’d take the hit on points to not spend any cash for this event. I just don’t want to come in last. Last place has to clean up.
I decided today, that if we were going to buck the rules and be rock stars, then we needed a rider to go along with it. You know, like Van Halen and their list of demands…like having a jar of M&Ms with all the brown ones removed.
All terms and provisions set forth are part of the same contract.
The Rock Stars will provide the following:
1. One full-length team building exercise with at least 50% effort by 50% of the team members. This will be determined at the time of the event.
2. The Rock Stars will agree to photographed, with the option of destroying the photos in the event they dislike the photos OR are bored and feel like tearing something up.
3. The Rock Stars agree to eat any food provided with no special dietary requests. The Rock Stars feel that this is very generous on their part and would like for that generosity be acknowledged in the form of homemade thank you cards.
4. Each member of the Rock Stars will provide their own logos. They are ARTISTS and compromise among artists is not possible. The Rock Stars demand that this be respected or some of them might pout or possibly shout.
5. The Rock Stars will display that they are cool and the best team at the event simply by showing up. The Rock Stars feel that it is in poor taste to brag. Also, no explanation is necessary. Because they are Rock Stars.
1. The Talent will not be willing to accept a penalty for cursing. The Talent rejects this rule in its entirety, but FULLY expects the other teams to comply.
2. The Talent reserves the right to be bored by/sneer at/heckle/show utter disdain to the other teams with absolutely NO retaliation.
3. In the event a member of the Talent is njured, medical attention must be provided IMMEDIATELY. Any injury sustained by members of other teams will be ignored. The other teams should endeavor to suck it up and not be babies.
4. The Talent acknowledges that they are NOT the only team in the event, however, do expect that the other teams present them with gifts. If the other teams do NOT provide gifts, then cash or piggy back rides will be accepted.
5. The Talent expects a shaded area to be provided for their comfort. In the event of rain, other teams must hold umbrellas over the Talent’s heads.
6. The Talent requires either they do NOT come in last. Or if they DO come in last, then a cleaning crew will be provided as the Talent doesn’t pick up after others.
And there you have it…my Contract Rider. Which also MAY be known as my letter of resignation. We’ll see.
We are also required to bring food to this event. I made pasta salad. And let me tell you, this pasta salad kicks fucking ASS. It is NOT your mother’s pasta salad. Fortunately, there was enough left over for me to have for dinner tonight. So…there’s ONE good thing about this event. I made good pasta salad. Perhaps you would like to make your OWN kick ass pasta salad. Well…have at it:
- 1 lb. penne pasta
- 1 clove garlic, quartered
- 1 tbsp. salt
- 1 cup packed fresh parsley
- 1/4 cup lemon juice
- 1/4 cup red wine vinegar
- 1 tbsp. curry powder
- 1/2 tbsp. sugar (don’t add more than this!)
- 3/4 tsp. ground cumin
- 1/2 tsp. black pepper
- 1 cup extra virgin olive oil
- 1/2 red onion, finely chopped
- 1 cup sliced and pitted Kalamata olives
- 2/3 cup dried currants
- 2/3 cup toasted pine nuts
- small basket of cherry tomatoes
Cook pasta in a lot of salted water until just tender to the bite. Don’t overcook it. When it is ready, drain it and rinse it under cold water to keep it from cooking any more. (If you’re in a hurry for this, then dump the pasta into a large bowl of ice water.)
Blend garlic and salt to a paste in a blender. Add parsley and mince. Blend in lemon juice, vinegar, curry, sugar, cumin, and pepper. While the blender is running, slowly add olive oil in a thin, steady stream. It should take at least 30 seconds to add the oil.
Pour the dressing over the pasta. Add the onion, olives, currants, and pine nuts. Chill two hours for flavors to blend.
Garnish with cherry tomatoes and serve.
Remember: There is no ‘I’ in WHY THE FUCK DO I HAVE TO DO THIS STUPID SHIT???
Okay, there are 4 of them…but you get what I mean.