My Coworker Brought a Live Chicken to the Office Potluck
Every year at JIMAC10, we have our annual office potluck. It is a tradition that most of us dread. It is usually just boring grocery store food, lukewarm coffee, and the kind of awkward small talk that makes you want to hide in a cubicle for three hours. But this year, Dave from IT decided to make things very different. Dave is a strange guy who loves 80s sci-fi movies, wears vintage band t-shirts, and does weird things at work, like reorganizing the breakroom fridge alphabetically by color. When he signed up for the potluck, we all wondered what he would bring. We placed bets in the group chat. Sarah thought it might be a weird healthy smoothie. Mike guessed a broken kitchen gadget he found in the basement. We were all completely wrong. Dave brought a real, live chicken. Around noon, everyone was in the breakroom getting food. The room was noisy with the sound of people chewing and the hum of the refrigerator. Suddenly, we heard a loud, distinct clucking sound. It wasn't the sound of a toy. It was loud, rhythmic, and definitely alive. I walked over toward the conference room to check it out. As I rounded the corner, I stopped dead in my tracks. There, walking right on the center of the mahogany conference table among the trays of food, was a chicken. She was a Rhode Island Red with shiny feathers and very curious eyes. Her name was Henrietta. Dave stood nearby, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, looking incredibly proud of himself. He looked like a man who had just solved a major engineering problem. He told everyone that Henrietta was his special guest and that she just wanted to socialize and get to know the team. I stood there, mouth agape, watching the chicken peck at a piece of lettuce sitting next to a tray of deviled eggs. Our HR manager, Jena, walked over to the table. She looked shocked, her face turning a shade of pale that I had never seen before. She asked Dave if he really brought a live animal to the office. Dave looked confused by the question and said she was very well-behaved and had all her shots, as if that made it perfectly fine to bring a farm animal to a professional lunch. Henrietta then pecked at a bowl of potato salad, scattering little bits of celery across the table. Everyone in the breakroom stopped eating. The silence was heavy and thick. People were clearly worried about salmonella, germs, and the very high possibility of the chicken pooping right next to the deviled eggs. You could see the internal struggle on everyone’s faces as they calculated how much they had already eaten. Jena, who is usually very patient, stayed remarkably calm, but her voice was tight. She told Dave that he absolutely had to take Henrietta home immediately because of company health and safety rules. Dave looked genuinely sad. He tilted his head and told us he thought the chicken would have fun, like she was just another coworker looking to network. He walked over to the table and picked her up. Henrietta squawked loudly, flapping her wings and knocking over a plastic cup of fruit punch, which spilled across the table. As they walked toward the office exit, the whole office was in total shock. We just stood there, staring at the feathers drifting slowly onto the carpet. Once they were gone, we started whispering. It felt like we were all trying to process a fever dream. The rest of the lunch felt different. The tension in the air was replaced by nervous laughter. We went back to eating, but we kept glancing at the table, checking for stray feathers. We kept talking about the chicken for the rest of the day. The story of Henrietta the office chicken immediately became a local legend at our company. People were asking if she had a name, if Dave had a coop, and how he even got her through the lobby doors without security noticing. It was just another crazy day at JIMAC10, but with a lot more feathers than usual. I still cannot look at a tray of deviled eggs without thinking about Henrietta and her brief, strange career as an office guest. Dave still works in IT, and he still does strange things, but I think the whole office let out a collective sigh of relief when they saw him walk in the next morning without a travel carrier in his hands. It is the kind of story that keeps us going through the long, quiet weeks of spreadsheets and conference calls. Even now, months later, whenever someone mentions the word potluck, we just look at each other and start laughing. Some people bring cookies, some bring chips, and some bring a live bird. That is just how life goes at JIMAC10.