Potluck Shenanigans
Tonight, I had to make a pit stop at the grocery store to pre-order a heart attack-worthy amount of fried chicken for tomorrow's work potluck (and also to pick up my ingredients for a tortellini salad I am making -- recipe below).
Here is the following conversation I had with the deli counter worker (who was female and young, so I will refer to her as "Girl"):
Me: "I would like to place an order for pickup tomorrow, for $65 worth of fried chicken."
Girl: "We have 100 piece deal for $64.99, how about that?"
Me: "Sounds good...can I place the order now?"
Girl: "Sure..."
At this point, I am thinking she's normal...then she takes out this pre-printed order form...and asks me my name.
Girl: "What's your name?"
Me: "Jennifer."
Girl: "Is that with two Fs and one N?"
Me: "What? Neither..."
And then I'm watching her carefully print out the following: "J-E-F-F-I-N..."
I interrupt her. There is no fucking way I am going to be called "JEFFINER". NO WAY.
Me: "It's TWO Ns and ONE F."
Girl: "What? That's new! I've never seen that before!"
Now I'm thinking she's on drugs...and then I'm trying to detect some kind of accent, because she's ethnic-looking, but no...she sounds like your everyday, normal, red-blooded American. No hint of any accent.
Girl: "How about you spell it for me?"
Me: "Okay...J-E-N-N-I-F-E-R."
Girl: "Wow, I've never even seen that name before!"
WHAT?! WHAT?!
At that moment in time, I was entirely too dumbfounded to even think about laughing, although I have to say now, that I am highly amused. I mean...I've lived here my entire life, and no one has ever questioned the name "Jennifer". Gloria thinks that she might have been a little dyslexic...which I'm apt to believe, but I mean...come on. Does she even KNOW another JEFFINER?
Anyway, so my chicken order is in. And I hope she's not working there tomorrow when I pick it up. Haha.
Here's the recipe for the tortellini salad I was talking about...
Tortellini with Cherry Tomatoes and Corn:
10 ounces frozen whole kernel corn
1 clove garlic -- halved
2 cups quartered cherry tomatoes
1/4 cup sliced green onions
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon pepper
Cook tortellini in boiling water 3 minutes, omitting salt and fat. Add frozen corn, and cook an additional 3 minutes; drain well.
Rub the inside of a large serving bowl with garlic halves; discard garlic. Add tortellini mixture, tomatoes, and remaining 5 ingredients, tossing gently to coat.
Yield: 6 servings (serving size: 1 cup)
I know that this recipe is fairly simple...to put it best. I try very hard not to make fancy stuff or overly-complicated things for potlucks at work...because it's simply not worth the effort or the cost involved, and nobody cares or appreciates it anyway. The people I work with...let's just say their palates are not all as well-developed or as refined as I would hope for them to be, in any capacity. They're a definite "Meat and Potatoes" crowd. It's kind of annoying, but...they're blue-collar workers. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there's a certain set of eating habits affiliated with being blue-collar...and for the most part, many of them are pretty much the epitome of that somewhat-stereotypical image. Heh.
Here is the following conversation I had with the deli counter worker (who was female and young, so I will refer to her as "Girl"):
Me: "I would like to place an order for pickup tomorrow, for $65 worth of fried chicken."
Girl: "We have 100 piece deal for $64.99, how about that?"
Me: "Sounds good...can I place the order now?"
Girl: "Sure..."
At this point, I am thinking she's normal...then she takes out this pre-printed order form...and asks me my name.
Girl: "What's your name?"
Me: "Jennifer."
Girl: "Is that with two Fs and one N?"
Me: "What? Neither..."
And then I'm watching her carefully print out the following: "J-E-F-F-I-N..."
I interrupt her. There is no fucking way I am going to be called "JEFFINER". NO WAY.
Me: "It's TWO Ns and ONE F."
Girl: "What? That's new! I've never seen that before!"
Now I'm thinking she's on drugs...and then I'm trying to detect some kind of accent, because she's ethnic-looking, but no...she sounds like your everyday, normal, red-blooded American. No hint of any accent.
Girl: "How about you spell it for me?"
Me: "Okay...J-E-N-N-I-F-E-R."
Girl: "Wow, I've never even seen that name before!"
WHAT?! WHAT?!
At that moment in time, I was entirely too dumbfounded to even think about laughing, although I have to say now, that I am highly amused. I mean...I've lived here my entire life, and no one has ever questioned the name "Jennifer". Gloria thinks that she might have been a little dyslexic...which I'm apt to believe, but I mean...come on. Does she even KNOW another JEFFINER?
Anyway, so my chicken order is in. And I hope she's not working there tomorrow when I pick it up. Haha.
Here's the recipe for the tortellini salad I was talking about...
Tortellini with Cherry Tomatoes and Corn:
10 ounces frozen whole kernel corn
1 clove garlic -- halved
2 cups quartered cherry tomatoes
1/4 cup sliced green onions
1/4 cup chopped fresh basil
2 tablespoons grated Parmesan cheese
1 teaspoon olive oil
1/8 teaspoon pepper
Cook tortellini in boiling water 3 minutes, omitting salt and fat. Add frozen corn, and cook an additional 3 minutes; drain well.
Rub the inside of a large serving bowl with garlic halves; discard garlic. Add tortellini mixture, tomatoes, and remaining 5 ingredients, tossing gently to coat.
Yield: 6 servings (serving size: 1 cup)
I know that this recipe is fairly simple...to put it best. I try very hard not to make fancy stuff or overly-complicated things for potlucks at work...because it's simply not worth the effort or the cost involved, and nobody cares or appreciates it anyway. The people I work with...let's just say their palates are not all as well-developed or as refined as I would hope for them to be, in any capacity. They're a definite "Meat and Potatoes" crowd. It's kind of annoying, but...they're blue-collar workers. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but there's a certain set of eating habits affiliated with being blue-collar...and for the most part, many of them are pretty much the epitome of that somewhat-stereotypical image. Heh.