It isn't about you!

There is a woman retiring this week after like a bazillion years of crazy employment. The crazy being 50% the place, and 50% the woman herself. She didn't want any fancy retirement thing, which is fine, so the committee is having an afternoon tea thing. The theme is tea and chocolate. They are hiring a bunch of people for the catering, including yours truly. I would have done something anyway, I think, because I've known the crazy lady for a while.

The committee is asking me to make biscotti. Which I do well, don't get me wrong. But...I know the retiring woman doesn't like it. AT ALL. She finds it too hard on her teeth, or dentures. More likely a combination of both but you get the point.

So I told the committee that, thinking that they could choose something different. Or better yet, let me choose: I've brought lots of things in to the office over the years, and I know what she is especially fond of and what she isn't.

Didn't work. They want biscotti, damn it, and they're going to have it. So I said fine, but I want the retiree know that it wasn't my call. I mean, who wants to think that the only caterer you actually know made the one thing you really dislikes? I was told that the committee liked biscotti and that's all that matters. And here I thought it was all about the retiree. Wrong again.