Not exactly the first impression I was going for

New faculty & staff orientation officially started yesterday at work. This means scavenger hunts, lots of getting-to-know-yous, and several shared meals. Monday night, the newbies and their significant others were invited to a barbecue at the interim head of school's home. It was a relaxing, laid-back affair with a few touches of charm that made it really nice. It's always fun to show off/introduce Mike to people, and I think he enjoyed himself. Most of the conversations were warm, fun and interesting, with the exception of being told we looked "too young to be married" and, more specifically, "12 years old" a few times.

Now, I should preface the rest of the story by saying that I'm pretty used to getting interrupted and, once the cause for interruption has passed, never having the opportunity to finish a story. Many an anecdote, argument or question has gone unfinished due to someone's "OH MY GOD I JUST REMEMBERED". Quite often, the fact that my topic is never reopened is a blessing, as it wasn't worthy of a long-drawn-out telling. Regardless, I've stopped fighting to make sure I get to finish my stories. I feel this completely justifies what's about to follow.

So we're at this barbecue pretty early in the evening, before the buffet has been opened, and we're moving from group to group making chit-chat as is the norm at these things. We're speaking with several of the new teachers from my orientation group about family, friends, Chicago, what have you. I'm explaining some aspect of my job, probably, when the catering director comes over to our little circle and announces that the buffet is open. We thank her and she moves on to the rest of the party. A member of our discussion group gestures to me. At this point, it should be mentioned that I am standing in such a way as to block the rest of our group from proceeding to the buffet tables. Thinking he's gesturing for me to lead the way to dinner, I immediately turn around and head in that direction. A marked lack of footsteps causes me to turn and double back as I realize he just wanted me to finish my statement. I do so and then head to food, the rest of the group hanging back and not getting their food for another fifteen minutes.

At this point it's probably worth mentioning that I was also first in line for the lunch buffet at orientation, again by a long shot.

I look like a total fat kid foodie.

Is this a Portland thing, that people aren't incredibly eager to get in line for food? I've never been to a buffet function where guests weren't forming a line as soon as they saw the lids come off the serving dishes.

This incident, combined with the way I apparently say "but I'm hungry" has added a new nickname to Mike's list: Rolly. As in the fat puppy from One Hundred and One Dalmatians.

As in this guy:

"But I'm hungry, momma, I really am!"

Sigh.