Fraters Libertas

The Fabric Of Society Is Very Complex

Today, I put an end to another workplace annoyance, one I call “The Gifting”. (Some of you may recall how I temporarily won my battle with the office stereo system. This was way back when I was merely a “long time reader” of Fraters). “The Gifting” is what I call the wholly offensive practice of being asked to contribute money to buy a group gift for a co-worker, usually for such momentous occasions as an impending wedding or birth.

I work in a firm with about 25 employees, 20 of whom are females. Of these 20, 15 are between the ages of 22 and 35 (before you start envying my position, consider for a moment these two words: synchronous menstruation). How likely is it that some of these women, if not all, will either get married and/or pregnant in the near future? Every other week it’s a baby shower for Sally or a wedding shower for Jane and every time I’m expected to cough up another ten spot or more to go towards another place setting or a set of teddy bear Onesies.

And if that isn’t bad enough, I’m expected to sit through the work arranged shower (after working hours, I might add) to watch the gifts being opened. The only showers I enjoy are the five minute blasts of hot water every morning that complete the transition from sleep to consciousness.

The latest shakedown occurred today as one of the girls, who just got married last year and is five months pregnant (that’s at least $20 out of my pocket if you’re keeping score) announced that she is leaving the firm. I was now being asked to contribute towards a going away gift. What could possibly be next? “Mary just had a Botox injection. Let’s buy her a microwave!”

I have been seething internally about this issue for about three showers now and today, I finally put the brakes on. When the office collection agent made her way to my desk and asked “Are you contributing to Jenny’s going away gift?” I responded with a long sigh. She shot back with “Well, you don’t have to.” I obviously knew this, but in a 25 person firm, it’s easy to become known as the office curmudgeon for not participating in the office “fun” which is why I always gritted my teeth and played along. Not this time, though. I simply responded “I know. Count me out.” With those words, the collector walked away to her next victim with the fresh news that I wasn’t a team player.

I fully expect to feel the repercussions of my decision, but I took a stand that I felt had to be taken. I do, however, wonder if I will regret my choice someday. Perhaps I could have persuaded the collectors to roam the halls of the office with tin cups in hand saying “Atomizer hasn’t had a flare up of The Gout in eight years. Let’s buy him a house.”