Holiday Potluck Battlefield Survival Guide
Dear Uncle Bobby, My office is having its annual holiday potluck today, and I’m already stressed. A few coworkers always show up empty-handed, some bring the saddest store-bought trays imaginable, and one person insists on telling everyone why they “can’t eat any of this.” How am I supposed to deal with the chaos politely?
Overwhelmed Pitiful Peacemaker,
Misty Crocker
Misty, my dear — politely is the language of defeat. You are walking into the culinary equivalent of a hostage negotiation, and you think manners are going to save you? Absolutely not.
Let Uncle Bobby show you how a true professional survives a holiday work potluck, because what you’re describing isn’t a meal — it’s a crime scene with casserole steam.
First, we must address The Freeloader Faction — the ones who proudly stroll in with nothing but a plastic fork they “found in their car,” then pile their plate so high it begins to cast a shadow. Misty, this is the moment you take charge. Stand by the table like a benevolent dictator and greet them with, “Oh! What dish did you bring?” Then let the silence do the choking for you. It’s called leadership.
Next, the “I brought something!” people who plop down a grocery-store sadness tray — you know the one — beige hummus sweating under fluorescent lights, celery cut in 1998, and ranch dressing that tastes like emotional instability. Do not shame them. Instead, elevate them. Say, “Thank you for your… contribution,” and assign their dish a special place: the far corner of the table, where bad decisions go to die. It’s basically witness protection for vegetables.
Now, let’s talk about The Dietary Prophet. The coworker who announces to the room that they “can’t eat gluten, dairy, sugar, meat, nitrates, joy, or things that cast a shadow.” They will hover around the table sighing like the ghost of Christmas Anxiety. Your job is to nod deeply, say, “Wow, such strength,” then gently guide them away from the food so they don’t harsh the gravy vibes.
But the true threat — the final boss of potlucks — is The Overconfident Chef. This person brings a dish no one asked for, usually something they saw on a reality cooking show at 2 a.m., and insists everyone try it. The correct response? Praise them loudly, enthusiastically, and repeatedly… while never once putting that mystery loaf anywhere near your mouth. It’s called survival with dignity.
Misty, you’re not just attending a potluck — you are navigating a battlefield of lukewarm carbs and shattered dreams. Walk in with confidence. Walk out with your sanity. And if all else fails, keep a backup sandwich in your desk like any strategist worth their salt.
You’ve got this.
Uncle Bobby believes in you — even if your coworkers’ potato salad is plotting against humanity.
– Uncle Bobby