Rachel looked around the office and said, “Okay. Then let’s settle it now before I place the order.”
Nobody expected that.
One coworker laughed. “Settle what?”
“The reimbursements,” Rachel said. “Everybody can send their share first, and I’ll submit the order after.”
The room got awkward immediately.
My supervisor smiled that fake corporate smile. “That’s not really how we usually do things.”
Rachel nodded slowly. “Yeah. I noticed.”
Nobody spoke for a second because suddenly the whole “team bonding” thing became very expensive when actual payment got involved.
One coworker said she was waiting on payday.
Another joked about being “office broke.”
Funny, considering ten minutes earlier they were adding premium cupcakes and extra wine like money didn’t exist.
Rachel turned her monitor around.
She’d already split the costs into neat little columns with everybody’s names beside what they requested.
Custom cupcakes.
Extra decorations.
The giant gift basket somebody insisted “had to look expensive.”
Even the extra bottle of wine.
My supervisor’s smile disappeared a little when she saw her total.
Then Rachel said the part nobody liked.
“I’ve worked here two weeks, and somehow I’m financing a party for people with salaries.”
Dead silence.
One coworker immediately got defensive. “Wow. It’s just a lunch.”
Rachel stayed calm. “Exactly. Which means nobody should have a problem paying for their own part right now.”
That landed hard because there really wasn’t a good argument against it.
Especially not after the speech about “nickel-and-diming coworkers.”
In the end, half the office suddenly decided the catered restaurant trays were unnecessary after all.
The custom cupcakes quietly became grocery store cookies.
And somehow payroll never needed to “figure it out eventually.”
Funny how fast office traditions shrink once the newest person stops absorbing the cost for everybody else.
