For years, I had a ritual on Friday mornings.  It’s a subtle reference to Office Space.  On Fridays, I’d wear a Hawaiian shirt to work.  That’s the extent of it, but others wore them too.  We were modest in count, but strong in consistency.  We wore them year-round, independent of the weather.  We were our Hawaiian shirt brigade.  I continued even upon moving teams.  One subsequent team dressed up on Fridays once a month, and I participated on both by wearing a festive tie with my Hawaiian shirt.  I would not be denied.

Upon moving to a new company, I started work during the pandemic.  While I could not physically participate with my teammates in wearing Hawaiian shirts on Fridays, I still established that tradition.  We established a channel on our communications application dedicated to precisely this, “Hawaiian Shirt Fridays”.  Even now, after we have returned to the office, we still work remotely on Fridays for the most part.  A number of us dutifully post selfies of ourselves in our colorful shirts.

A few weeks ago, we had a morale event at work.  Our morale committee does an exceptional job selecting different venues for events.  We held this particular event at Canvas.  These days, people often turn their passions into businesses.  Today, we would drink alcohol and paint on canvas.  They instructed us to park across the street at the public parking structure near the library and walk across.  As we filed in, they ordered us to put on an apron and pick a station.  Each station held two drink tickets.

I took two tickets off one of the stations farthest away from the front.  I had to leave early, and thus I didn’t participate in the painting.  However, I joined my friends with drinks while I watched the shop give basic instructions on how to paint a mountainous, evening landscape.  Each station has schmears of white, black, and a couple of blues.  Since I did not participate in the painting, I never put on an apron.

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