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Dear
Annette,
It's about the office refrigerator. What can I do?
Ew
Dear
Ew,
Thanks to the artistic and janitorial exertions of an army of excruciatingly
fastidious People, my kitchen refrigerator is an illuminated heaven
of champagne, caviar, and assorted nail colors, plus the occasional
foil sculpture concealing a savory ort for my dog Dickie. Naturally,
his water bowl must be chilled before use as well.
Refrigerators
were an excellent idea in their day, but really, do we still need
them in this economy? These days, I wouldn't be caught dead eating
groceries. Even when I entertain, the food is from a restaurant
or a caterer - although Alberto, who used to be my favorite chef,
has fallen off my A list lately because he occasionally forgets
that Tall is over.
Still,
it's very difficult to refrain from putting things In the refrigerator,
even if you have no intention of taking them Out again.
Moreover,
unlike workspaces with their carefully allotted ceiling tiles, the
office refrigerator often becomes a free-for-all, a frontier, the
domain of pioneers who will stop at nothing to stake their claim
on the precious tundra inside.
Guilty
as charged.
Why
not start afresh once a week? Try Purge the Fridge Friday, a collaborative
performance art ritual in which everyone can participate with near-Bacchic
pleasure.
Gather
the entire company into the kitchen after lunch on Friday - you'll
probably be wearing casual clothes, so this is the safest time.
Open the door to no-one's land and listen to the gasps and squeals.
Record them into a tape loop to play on the corporate intranet.
Marvel at the assortment of colors and shapes. Pass items around
for group inspection and horror. Take turns guessing who contributed
what. Point fingers and name names. Make sure each person gets to
discard something, wipe a shelf, or in some other way leave a mark
on the festivities.
Purge
the Fridge Friday will set you apart in your industry as an innovative,
change-oriented company. It will also create deep bonds within your
corporate community. Or at the very least, it will leave room for
my champagne.
Stay
fabulous,
Annette
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