Today was our department's Thanksgiving potluck, and I'm about thisclose
to falling face-first on my desk. We're a large group so it shouldn't be such a surprise that we have some amazing cooks, but hell if people didn't outdo themselves. Turkey, ham, sweet potatoes prepared just about every way imaginable (I brought Bourbon Yams.), green beans cooked with new potatoes and bacon so good I could have eaten seconds and thirds, mashed potatoes, dirty rice, rolls of every variety although I LOVED the ones Z bought from Hartz Chicken because they were still warm from the oven, this broccoli and rice casserole that was downright creamy, and some corn-on-the-cob done just right. Then there were the desserts: sweet potato pie (::dies::), pecan pie (store-bought and it had the shittiest crust ever so that was a big disappointment), this dark chocolate cake thingie with crumbled toffee on top, peach cobbler, and coconut cake.
Seriously, I can’t recall everything I ate because Del and I just went along and spooned everything that looked good onto our plates. We sat in the conference room for nearly an hour and a half afterwards in a post-gorging haze. Thank God for Crazy Carol, who was sitting across from us, because we worked off at least a few calories laughing at her crazy ass.
Then we had a guy pull the best trick on us. With research, there is quite a bit of separation between groups within the department, so when we have a big get together like this it's a lot of new faces, mostly from the lab but also those who work almost exclusively on the floor. Anyway, this guy sits down beside Crazy Carol, rather quiet, just eating his food, when he turns to CC all natural and innocent-like, asking, "So what department are you in?" Of course, this shocks the shit out of all of us, and he admits, "I'm from Memorial Southwest. A friend told me about this, so I came." When we asked him who his friend was, he deadpanned, "I have no friends." When MK, who's on my right, hears this, she has the best reaction, she just sort of stares at him, mouth open, so surprised at this interloper’s cojones that she is for once struck mute. Then she tells him jokingly, "Okay, just leave your five dollars on the table when you leave."
Of course, after several minutes of ribbing him, we spot him chatting with one of the operation managers, and that's when we learn the guy is actually one of the PhDs from Dr. I's lab. We could not stop laughing because he really had us going there. Also, more than a little impressed.
In other news, I'm going to Las Vegas in February for the NBA All-Star
Weekend. Del, LaLa, Del's bro, Del's boy, Miss T, The Peon, Gay V, Cat - all told there's fifteen of us going, so we got a couple of suites at the Hilton on the Strip. Del and I are a bunch of giggling idiots because every time we get together, it somehow turns into planning the Vegas trip. (We're in good company because Del's boy put up a flashy little countdown graphic on his MySpace page.) We already have the directions to the nearest Wal-Mart because we're planning on cooking while we're up there since we all like to cook and there is a kitchen in the main suite, and you know, we don't want to go broke eating out.
And this icon has nothing whatsoever to do with this post; I’m just still on a high from last night. HEE!