When I worked at an investments firm in Boston about 15 years ago, I was scolded for eating a banana at my desk. Apparently I had violated a “no strongly scented foods in the work area” stipulation in some document of employee conduct that, curiously, I had not committed to memory.
“Hah, strongly scented foods, that’s a good one,” I had said and waited for the admonisher to laugh too. But it was no joke; I really was being told not to eat healthy fruit at my desk. They preferred instead that we buy rich muffins or bags of chips from the cafeteria. No distracting “real food” scent.
I mention this by way of contrast. Though it took me longer than it should have to realize I’m a poor fit for the Finance industry (Pantyhose and heels? Fascist food rules?), I did find my way to a better fit. Higher ed is no paradise but there is an awful lot to love, including the array of personalities that surround me.
When I look around the cubes here, I see a colleague who has built a shrine to her horse. Another colleague who eats spicy curries for lunch. A row that has facetiously named themselves “The One %” and given themselves imaginative wealthy fatcat nicknames. One Halloween we toilet papered each other’s cubes.
I cautiously starting bringing bananas in a few years ago. I unpeel and eat them in my cube. And I haven’t looked back.
