My work team has started a new tradition in the office. We go on a Steak Night at the restaurant across the road every Wednesday.
I don’t remember who started it except that one day; my then-manager invited me to join them on Steak Night. In the beginning, it was just the three of us now and then. But it quickly escalated into an event with the whole team. Sometimes, we invite other teams. Every Wednesday, with beers. Everyone has started to look forward to this.
The conversation about Steak Night starts at 9.01 AM on the same day, with one or two people coming to inform me that they can’t make it while the rest say they will try. Somehow, I always manage to convince all the parties I like to come.
Me? I don’t need convincing, I am always there.
I like Steak Night; for obvious reasons, the $20 meat and the booze; for not-so-obvious reasons, like how we grow closer by sharing inappropriate stories and comments among colleagues, managers, and subordinates. Including someone who slammed the door on his sister’s new boyfriend because he preferred her ex-boyfriend. Another colleague drove very slowly on a narrow road, beside a cliff, in the snow just to get some. It reminded me that we all were normal-ish people.
Steak Night is the best! It’s been the highlight of my workweek for a long time.
Update 2018: Now that I no longer work in the same department or any of my old teammates, the Steak Night is practically non-existent. Newman and I have been trying to revive this tradition by committing to it at least once a month. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy now that he is no longer working for the company, and I do regular working hours.
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