Potlucks blow

Here’s the deal folks. Today is my Division's Thanksgiving Potluck Luncheon here at PAC (work).

It is allegedly common knowledge that the “younger/single female professionals” in my department have been deemed as the “plate buyers”. It seems that we are usually the ones who sign up to buy the little dessert plates, the ice, and/or other essential yet “require no thought at all” items. Which really means "better yet, just tell us who to hand the cash over to and we’ll do it". This is apparently because we are too busy “going out and living the single life”, drinking all night long like the lushes we are. You know, “too busy spreading our legs, whoring it up” to make any real dish. And let’s face it – that’s all completely true. Well, for me, at least.

Anyway, this is all the inner-departmental gossip I was hearing before the sign-ups came around. So, I decided that instead of being the cliché (as true as it is), I would take off from my usual night-time activities (whoring it up and drinking until I puke), and make some mashed potatoes. Basically, a “kiss my ass” to all the older ladies I work with.

Psh – they can’t tell ME what to do. Biznatches.

Besides, I’ve made the mashed potatoes for my family on Thanksgiving for the last three years. It’s not hard and they taste awesome. BTW – to clarify, when I say “making mashed potatoes” – I mean, buying a box of Hungry Jack potato flakes and making instant mashed potatoes. I'm just sayin', y'all. Because I don’t want anyone to think I’d actually be making these sum-bitches from scratch. Like I got time for THAT shit. You know, because MY time is all spent sucking on beer-bongs and hooking up everyday.

So yesterday at the departmental meeting, we get our reminder notes about what we signed up to bring to the luncheon, when they dropped the bombshell on me.

“Oh yeah. Someone else signed up to bring the mashed potatoes. So you don’t have make quite as much.”

UHM – WHAT?!?!

Oh fuck me. Now. It’s a competition.

So when I returned to my office I made all of my coworkers (within my specific office) sign agreements to eat my mashed potatoes and claim they are the best ever. Because there is no way in hell I'm going to have the "loser mashed potatoes" that no one eats. You know which dish I’m talking about. There are always one or two dishes at a company potluck that tastes so gross that NO ONE eats. And they just sit on the table. Uneaten. Then the person who made it has to cover it up and take it back with them. Knowing full well that what they made tastes like shit. And everyone else knows it too.

HELL if I’m going to let that happen to me. Oops, I mean, my mashed potatoes.

So now I have to decide if it’s time to bite the bullet and make the real shit. Which I REALLY don’t want to do or go with the flakes. But then again, I can’t have the Loser Dish. What to do!

I decided to ask for pointers from my colleagues. I got suggestions like - chicken bullion (sp?) and “leave the peel on so they know they're homemade”, etc.

After work I went to the grocery store. I eyed the bags of potatoes in the produce section and thought "Fuck that! I got a Spurs game to watch". So I bought the chicken bullion (sp?), a box of flakes, 1 real potato, and all the other necessary goodies (like a 6-pack and a porno – you know to get me through a night without boozing it up and whoring).

I got home, boiled the potato and made my flakes like usual (but added the chicken cube this time). Then I scraped w/my knife some of the edges of the potato and all the peel off. I stuck in a few "lumps", all the peel, added plenty of pepper, a bit more salt, some parsley and it was good to go!

When my roommate got home, I asked her to taste test. I mostly wanted to know if it needed more salt or pepper, etc.

When she first saw them, she was like "You made the real thing?"

Me: Uhm, no.
Leslie: These are so good.
Me: Yeah, I added the peel and some lumps from a real potato and I used chicken bullion.
Leslie: You are so smart.
Me: Duh.

So, yes. I cheated. But come on! I had no choice. This IS a competition. And I will NOT lose. I mean, my mashed potatoes will not lose.

I’ll let you know what happens.