Snack Cart Poker

I believe I am an unwitting subject in a psychological experiment taking place at my office.  Some of you firmslaves may have heard of the “Food from the Bar” program that the Capital Area Food Bank sponsors in the spring.  Law firms compete to raise money for the summer lunch program that feeds kids in the city who rely on school lunches and otherwise don’t get to eat in the summer.  My firm is raising money by, among other things, staffing a snack cart that roams the halls twice a day and sells exorbitantly priced granola bars and doritos.  It has changed my life.
The snack cart has become the top priority of my day.  I watch the clock and make sure to take no bathroom breaks when the snack cart is making rounds for fear of missing it.  I debate keeping my phone off the hook until it arrives, for fear of it passing over someone who looks too busy.  When I hear the little bell ring as it rounds the corner to my hallway I have a Pavlovian reaction much the way a small child reacts upon hearing the plinking music of an ice cream truck.  But to an unempowered child, the ice cream truck might be the only available source of ice cream in a day.  I am not similarly situated.  I could take my same two dollars and buy an entire family size bag of doritos at the CVS one block from my office and just chow down, but I never do.  Instead I much prefer the joyous experience of spending that money on a tiny little bag of doritos from a mail cart decorated with curling ribbon.  So much so that I plan my day around it.
I need to know that I am not crazy.  That there is some well-accepted psychological reward phenomenon at work here that affects all normally-wired people.  As such, poker tonight will feature a change in snacking.  Instead of one bag of chips that we all pass around, we will offer a variety pack of mini chip bags.  In a basket.  Decorated with curling ribbon.  You will kvell.  Be at [——] at 8pm to get the best mini chip selection.  All you need to bring is $10 for buy-in.  And RSVP so I know whether we need one chip variety pack or two.

Caggiano vs. Kelly Poker

The internet knows I’m married.  It’s a very weird and creepy thing.  The ad banners on my browser for months leading up to my wedding said things like “buy cheap flowers in bulk” and “5 foods you should never eat to avoid belly fat” and “half price on super cute shoes.”  Even though I rarely click on ad banners, I did at least look at them because, well, they were targeting my interests at the time.  Then magically, the day after my wedding, all the ad banners changed.

Now the top ad I see is “yoga pants for the office.”  Now I have been married less than two weeks, so some of my former identity still lingers, while the new identity slowly emerges.  Kristina Caggiano saw that ad banner and immediately ranted:  Have we so given up as a society and embraced our sloth and obesity that we don’t even want yoga pants to do exercise anymore?  “Active wear” is now just stretchy cloth to pull softly over our fat rolls because we can’t even wear respectable clothes to sit on our asses all day at work!?  But Kristina Kelly looked at those yoga pants and said: I want them.  They look so comfy.  Dress to impress?  I don’t give a shit.

I also keep getting banners for “assorted wine delivered to your door every month.”  Kristina Caggiano thought, I live a block from a Safeway that carries a huge selection of wine, half a block from a liquor store that carries even more, and within 5 minutes of 10 bars and restaurants that serve all the wine I could ever want.  How lazy does one have to be to get wine delivered—regularly—in that environment?  And do they think that I have just given up on actually leaving my house and going out at night?  Like I will have no social life anymore and I just want to drink empty calories alone on my couch?  But Kristina Kelly ordered it.  Because it’s wine that you don’t even have to carry.  It just comes to the door and you can get drunk in your yoga pants watching Battlestar Galactica for the 8th time.  Genius.

Then yesterday, I saw an ad banner for “5 foods that enhance your fertility.”  And Kristina Caggiano said oh HELL no.  I’m filing that one with “5 foods you should never eat to avoid belly fat.”  Pass the lazy yuppie wine!  But Kristina Kelly clicked on it.  Just to see.  Because maybe izzy itty widdy baby booties….

STOP.  Poker!  And Booze!  And loud drunk friends breaking shit!  I have a choir practice tonight, and Goodman is still in Belize, so poker can start a little later than usual at 9 PM at [———–] or earlier somewhere else?).  Please RSVP to figure out quorum, and timing, and whether a later start is ok for people.  Again, you don’t have to bring booze this time, we can just drink delivery wine.

No Words Poker

When I first saw the below advertizement, it took a minute for me to appreciate the marketing brilliance, but once I did, I was awe-inspired at its ability to effectively convey information using no words at all.  I became determined to come up with a poker invite that similarly used no words, but was still clever and funny and communicated the essential information one would need from an invite, and also made people want to come to poker.  I was not able to come up with anything.

So come to poker, and it will be awesome.  It’s around 8 pm, and requires an RSVP.