I miss my cookie

Many moons ago, I used to work for a major unnamed Financial company, who is extremely well respected and well known to many. It was always fun working there, since the majority of my peers were around my age, everyone worked hard, but at the same time, everyone appreciated the fun side of working together as a team. Perhaps the fun was offsetting the fact they paid in bottle caps, and our work stations were the size of milk crates, but you tended to overlook that stuff over time. Besides, I got cool mechanical pencils and an endless supply of multi-coloured sticky notepads. I felt empowered beyond belief.

Today being Friday, I had a positive flashback to my time at that company for one major reason - my free cookie. Friday was forever known as "Cookie Day". Every Friday, our Cookie Sergeant would identify the Cookie Mules for the day. The role of Cookie Mule was simple - find the highest ranking person you could find on the floor (usually a partner, it was a contest to find the richest person) and milk that person for hard cash or credit cards. The unwritten code of conduct was if you were flagged by the Cookie Mules, you were forking out the cash or credit card, whether you liked it or not. The more difficult you made the "capture", the more cookies would be spent using the victims funds. If a victim made a huge fuss, they would be targeted for multiple weeks on pure principle, even if they paid the week before. Don't even try asking for change back. Pretty simple gang mentality, but it worked for us.

We felt like bank robbers, looking for the next victim. Partners, when they found out the Mules were on the loose, vanished like ghosts. Magically, Partners had meetings, bathroom breaks, ran for coffee, morning trysts, I dunno where they went, but they were gone, warm coffee still at their desks. Regardless, every week, someone was caught and forked out the dough. One week, a shady Partner who thought he was staying ahead of the curve and knew he was a target decided to bring in his own supply of cookies. Chips Ahoys!!!! You've gotta be kidding me. Don't bring that weak stuff into our office (relative to what we were used to of course. If any Chips Ahoy employees are reading this, they are by far the best packaged cookie ever of course). We decided to milk him for coffee instead. He never tried that stunt again - rookie.

The second, and most important aspect of the Mule task, was hitting the shopping mall to find cookies. Not packaged or grocery cookies. Ohhhh Nooooo. We're talking about those kick-ass Starbucks/Costco sized jobs - think large Mrs. Fields cookies times 5. The more expensive the better. The fresher and biggest, the best. Chocolate Chip, Peanut Butter, whatever, nobody cared as long as they were free. The mules would come prancing back into the building with huge grins, knowing they had outdone the previous weeks Mules in quality and quantity.

Yet given this was a professional environment, and clients were abound, discretion was paramount to the cookie distribution success. The Cookie Sergeant would send a common discrete phone message using our voicemail system. She was always cryptic, saying something like "the eagles have landed", or simply "here". Nothing else, no directions, no location, just the code. As I grew to learn, that meant get your ass over to her office, and claim your cookie.

One each (we were not vultures) of your choice, no double dipping, no presampling. If you touched one, it was yours - period. The best Mules, of which I included myself, would ensure everyone’s favourites were acquired, hence even the last person would still get a good cookie. The rookie Mules would get those odd, Martha Stewartish cookies like Cranberry and Flax with Coconut and Paprika, or some other crazy concoction. No thanks - I'd rather eat dirt. The bad selection Mules would get the extra assignment stapling, photocopying, sorting thumb-tacks, whatever nobody else wanted to do.

So of course, by noon, you had an entire office full of happy, sugared up employees and one disgruntled partner wishing he had gone to the washroom sooner. I would leave that firm, and not surprisingly, franchises like Cookies By George and Mrs Fields are now out of business or less common. Coincidence? But on days like today, I sure miss that cookie. Or perhaps I miss the process of getting the cookie....