Secret Santa: Day 1, Monday

What I Gave

As soon as I walk out the office door on Friday I try my hardest to not think about my job until I wake up Monday morning.  This weekend was a success in that regard, thanks in part to a booming Christmas Party Saturday night. As I shuffled into my office, straining my brain for any projects I had to resume from the week prior, I was blindsided by one of the ladies.

"Ryan!!!," she screamed.  "Did you remember your SECRET SANTA? It's SECRET SANTA WEEK!!!"

God damnit, I thought. I had completely forgotten.

Unenthusiastic, I responded, "Uh, yeah." I then realized my monotone response may have been a little cold, given my coworker's obvious excitement.  I continued, in an attempt to amend my initial lackluster response,  "Of course! What? You think I would forget?"

After wracking my brain for 3 minutes, I decided I would write my Secret Santa a poem explaining my folly, promising a gift far surpassing the $2 limit the following day. Knowing my audience, I figured if I made the poem cute enough it would maybe take away some of the sting associated with being stood up on Secret Santa Day 1. It read...

...from the desk of Kris Kringle

You're probably wondering where your present is - no doubt, for sure,

Unfortunately, this weekend, my elves were a little immature

Instead of whittling toy trains, like Santa had asked,

The elves went out on the North Pole and got straight up trashed

But fear not for the elves are now in big trouble,

And tomorrow, at your desk, you'll receive a present that's double!

I waited until the subject left her office (I have a clear view of her door from down the hall), then walked briskly into her office, placing the poem on her desk. When she returned to her office, I listened from down the hall as my subject read the poem to herself, followed by a boisterous laugh. I had dodged a bullet, yes, but I had to put up the next day.

What I Got

After leaving my desk for a quick trip down the hall to our 25 square foot "kitchen," where I was able to fetch a glob of peanut butter on a plastic spoon, I returned to my desk to find my present: an oversized Hershey Kiss WITH almonds, and containing 3 raisins nestled within the center of the delicacy.  I placed my spoon down on my desk gingerly, so as to avoid it toppling and leaving a peanut butter smear, and immediately turned my attention to the Kiss, devouring it in less than 15 seconds. It was the balls. Unfortunately, I was too eager to pwn the Kiss and forgot to take a picture of the gift until after the carnage. Given some of my coworkers' gifts - an "Office Voodoo Kit" (whatever the hell that means), a pot holder, and a gingerbread tree ornament - I feel I came out a winner today.  Gift grade: 8/10.

Be sure to check in tomorrow, for a recap of RPK's gives and gets from both today (Tuesday) and Wednesday!

Secret Santa Week at the Office!

Between graduating from college in the midst of the greatest recession since the 1930's, and doing so with a sub-par GPA, I didn't exactly find companies throwing themselves at me upon my entrance into the working world. I was fortunate enough to land a job in my field however, and am currently employed as a staff accountant at a small accounting office here in Rhode Island.  I am one of seven employees, the other six comprised of five middle-aged women, and one oft absent middle-aged man (not to be confused with this guy).

Due to my gender mate's spotty attendance record, I am often the only male in the building. This, coupled with my entry level status, relegates me to some blue-collar duties your typical desk job might not require. In my 18 month tenure, I have carried bulky trash bags and cardboard across a half-acre parking lot to a dumpster, fastened white boards to office walls, assembled office chairs, installed a conference call system, and moved a refrigerator to an area deemed by the ladies to be more aesthetically pleasing than its previous location - all while in slacks and loafers.

I carry out my laborious duties with minimal grumblings; even though it's incredibly frustrating/humbling at times, I recognize the steady supply of comedic material provided me in my working environment. I also remind myself that, while this position is just a stopgap for me until I figure my shit out, these women will likely be working here until they retire or are laid off; it's their livelihood.

The job's prominent position within the ladies' lives motivates them to try and make the workplace a little more enjoyable, most notably around the holidays (the thought that work can be masked in any way to seem anything but, well, work is a source of contention between my coworkers and me - but they don't know that). This holiday season is no different. A fake Christmas tree, ordered from Staples, has been erected in the hall outside my office door, complete with lights and cheap ornaments. Nat King Cole's "The Christmas Song" can be heard through a coworker's computer speakers several times a day, but not continuously, as the radio station requires buffering every 90 seconds.

All decorations and attempts at setting a festive mood pale in comparison to this year's inaugural Secret Santa. Stretched out over four days, from Monday through Thursday, an employee must act as a Secret Santa to another employee for the duration of the week, stealthily deploying $2 gifts on their subject's desk. Follow me throughout the week, as I present you with a detailed day-by-day breakdown of both my "gives" and my "gets."

GUEST COLUMN: When Snuking met the Cat Daddy

As said in the 2004 film Garden State, "If you can't laugh at yourself, life's gonna seem a whole lot longer than you like." By that rationale, our first guest writer's time on this earth is going to pass in a flash. You will know him as Ligs, and his actions might not seem too different from any other 20-something college dude, but what separates Ligs from the commoner is his self-awareness (sometimes only in hindsight) - a quality that manifests itself in the form of some amusing tales of failure, and accompanying self deprecation.  Read Ligs' first entry after the jump.

Top 10 Basketball Kicks of the 1990's

A lot sucks about the timing of my birth. Born in 1985, I missed all the great music of the 70's and was too young to be interested in the early 90's grunge boon as it developed. The hilariously offensive television programming pioneered in the mid-70's (lead by Belushi, Murray, and the like headlining the original SNL cast in 1975) slowly gave way to a stuffy, politically correct society overseen by Tipper Gore and the Clinton administration. And then, there's this recession thing going on right now. As Wayne Campbell said of the Suck-Cut invention in 1992's Wayne's World, "It certainly does suck!"

Don't get me wrong, though. The 90's weren't all bad. In addition to Al Gore inventing the internet, and the emergence of both R.L. Stine's Goosebumps and pogs, one thing that did not suck was the abundance of incredibly stylish - and expensive - basketball sneakers.  Let's take a gander at the best of the best from the "Golden Age of Kicks." You can find the list after the jump.

Hey, Hang in There!

I humbly apologize to my growing fanbase for the lack of posts. You must remember, The Place to Be is in its infancy. As such, I am taking the necessary measures (and time) to provide you with quality material. Hey, if you want me to take a dump on my keyboard and label it a column on TPTB, I will. I got spare time. But my readers deserve much better, as does my computer.

I have an article in the works for you sports lovers that will be published tomorrow. In addition, you should be expecting TPTB's first guest column(!) in the coming days.

In the meantime, feel free to enjoy this little gem as penance for your patience...

FAQs

To familiarize my readers with the new site, I have prepared a Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) section.

Q: What is The Place to Be, and do I belong?

A: If you hold an affinity for arts & entertainment, you bet your sweet ass you belong.  If you recognized that within both the blog's title and the ensuing 100 or so words, are three popular culture references, this is the place for you.  At its core, The Place to Be (TPTB) is a venue allowing me to analyze my two greatest passions, arts & entertainment, and share my opinions, realizations, and any other thoughts provoked. 

The driving force behind TPTB is my reviews.  I will review American film, music, television, and literature from all eras.  As I churn out reviews, I will eventually develop a rating system for the different mediums; that is, a way for my readers to get a feel for my opinion of the creation "at a glance."  In addition to reviewing mediums readily consumed within the confines of one's home, I will also publish reviews of any live concerts or art exhibits I attend.

In addition to posting my original content, I will also post any links, articles, videos, etc. I feel should be of interest to my readers, along with my accompanying thoughts.

Seat back in the upright position...

Welcome to RPK's foray into the blogosphere. You could be anywhere in the world right now, but you're here with me, and I appreciate that. Let's go!