How Salad Changed Our Agency
Asking people to change their habits is pointless. You can try. They’ll smile, nod, and (because this is the south) follow up with a “yes, ma’am” or “yes, sir”. They might even give your request a go for a day or two. But, without fail, the old habits will settle back into place.
Tailfin is no different.
Like most workplaces and frat houses, our refrigerator has been guilty of turning exploding into a breeding ground for biohazardous materials – three-week-old wings, empty-ish containers of hummus, decomposing salads of all kinds, etc. As an attempt to stop the madness, mass emails were sent with pictures of the offending dishes. But the emails weren’t cutting it. And, however unfair, the disinfecting duties were falling to one person, as they inevitably do.
So, our boss thought up a simple plan to put an end to the piling pre-packed lunches and forgotten grocery items. We’d have pizza – no, wait SALAD! – every day provided by the office. It would mean that at least part of us would stop bringing in food and that we would have a healthy option to turn down before deciding to spend too much money on burgers and fries.
His plan worked – people stopped loading the fridge with last night’s leftovers. And it wasn’t just some of us. It was almost all of us. The fridge was looking immaculate (as immaculate as a fridge shared by 20 people can be). And, moreover, most of us ate salad just about every day of the week. Qualifying us as the healthiest advertising office Atlanta has ever seen (I mean… probably).
Besides being a healthy option, the salad bar had some pretty awesome side-effects. We stopped spending that extra $15-20 on lunch when we forgot to bring it from home. Plus, we stopped leaving for lunch, meaning that we became more productive during lunch hour. And because fresh produce, bacon bits, hearts of palm, nuts, seeds and other salad dressings were served up on the daily, we felt appreciated. We weren’t eager to leave – we were happy to hang around the office.
We’ve started lurking around the salad bar, competing for the best creation, talking about our weekend debauchery and subtly nudging each other to get back to work to meet those deadlines. Whatever it is, we’re hanging out together.
Our beloved salad bar has turned this agency of fridge-food offenders into a team that’s happy, healthy, holding onto their lunch money and hanging out more.
Guess you could say our salad days are just beginning.