Will You Pass the Office Treat Test？ 你能通过办公室的请客考试吗？

Madison Darbyshire 麦迪逊·达比希尔

Summertime in the northern hemisphere. Rising temperatures have turned public transportation into a mobile oven and burnt-out urbanites have fled to more glamorous locales.

Which means that right about now， office workers arriving at work on a Monday find emails from freshly holidayed co-workers inviting them to help themselves to the edible treat. Colleagues immediately descend on the offering like ravenous ants.

In the past year the table nearest my desk has housed: Grasmere gingerbread， Portuguese Azorean tarts， Japanese matcha Kit Kats， Bulgarian biscuits，Spanish turrón， Viennese wafers， Belgian stroopwafels， chalky Greek chocolate， chalky Singaporean chocolate and Dorset knobs.

It is difficult to know what this practice is intended to communicate in the modern office. Are we， the post-vacation sweet providers， grateful to our colleagues for holding the fort while we selfishly partake of legally mandated time off？ Are we trying to say something about our fine tastes， the exoticism or deliberate homeliness of our destination？

The Japanese call this custom omiyage. It is believed to have its origins in 15th-century religious pilgrimages， where the gift acted as both evidence that the sacred journey was completed but also as a way to share the blessings. Omiyage allows your left-behind co-workers to share in your experience.

In the summertime workplace， however， these gifts seem to be partly offered up in tribute by the victors of the office battle over “who gets August”. Tarts and cakes are whittled down slice by modest slice. If you work in Britain， the last piece will be trimmed until only a sliver so thin that light can pass through it remains. American or Italian colleagues can be relied upon to put the confection out of its misery.

People devour the offering， evaluate it on its objective merits （is it delicious？） as well as its subjective value （how committed is Jonathan to this team？）. I don’t care what you say， Toblerone is an act of passive-aggression.

Toblerone silently screams， “I did not want to commit the openly hostile act of returning emptyhanded but I did not think of you until I was leaving Gatwick airport and WHSmith had a buyone-get-two-half-off special， and I still only bought one.” When it comes to choosing the co-worker treat， some describe a mild anxiety that strikes on day one of the trip. Another， overwhelmed， avoids the practice entirely. This has not gone unnoticed.

Brands are aware of the colleague-at-risk-of-returning-empty-handed market. Toblerone does at least a quarter of its sales in transportation hubs and duty-free shops. Al Nassma， the camel milk chocolatier， sells the bulk of its product in Dubai’s airports. Travellers do not buy camel milk chocolate for pleasure. The same goes for truffles filled with the rancid-smelling durian fruit， a south-east Asian novelty.

One City worker spoke to me of an executive who returns from an annual summer trip to France with an entire case of decent wine to share. But whether you are at the bottom of the food chain or closer to the top， anyone who has agonised over a $15 bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups at JFK that would cost $4 outside the airport knows the way pennies feel like gold coins when you are spending them on your manager.

The literal translation of omiyage is “souvenir”， from the Latin subvenire （“to come to mind”）. However good we purport to be at work-life balance， the truth is we spend a significant chunk of our lives in the company of our colleagues. Even abroad， they come to mind – we see something delicious or wonderful or silly and think， “Isabel would love that.”

Though if that thing turns out to be expensive，fragile or perishable， there’s always Toblerone. People really do love that stuff.

北半球进入夏季。持续攀升的气温把公共交通工具变成了一个行走的烤箱，耐不住酷暑的城里人纷纷逃往更有魅惑力的地方。

这意味着，大约就是现在，周一来到工作岗位的上班族就会收到电子邮件，发自刚度假归来的同事，邀请大家自行享用美食。很快，同事们像贪婪的蚂蚁一样聚拢过来。

过去一年来，离我办公桌最近的桌子上先后摆放过：格拉斯米尔的姜饼、葡萄牙的亚速尔风味蛋挞、日本的抹茶奇巧巧克力、保加利亚的饼干、西班牙的牛轧糖、维也纳的威化饼、比利时的焦糖华夫饼、希腊的白巧克力、新加坡的白巧克力和多塞特的圆饼干。

不知道请客这种做法想在现代办公室里传递什么信息。我们这些度假归来的甜品供应者是要感谢那些在我们自顾自享受着法定假期的时候还在坚守岗位的同事们？还是想对于我们的高雅品味、对于旅行目的地的异域风情或从容平淡发表某些看法？

日本人把这种习俗称为“伴手礼”。伴手礼据说起源于15世纪的宗教朝圣之旅，礼物既是完成神圣旅程的一个证据，也是分享祝福的一种方式。伴手礼可以让留守的同事分享你的旅行体验。

然而，在夏季的办公室里，这些礼物似乎在一定程度上是那些在“谁拿下了八月假期”办公室大战中获胜的人献上的贡品。蛋挞和蛋糕一片片被越切越小。如果你是在英国工作，最后一块会被切得只剩下薄薄的一片，甚至能透过光。美国或意大利的同事们则保证可以结束这些甜品所受的酷刑。

人们大快朵颐，对美食客观的优点（好不好吃？）、主观的价值（乔纳森对这个团队有多忠心？）评头论足。我不在乎你们怎么说，我认为三角巧克力表明了一种以退为进。

三角巧克力在无声地高喊：“我不想做出空手而归这种公然抱有敌意的行为，但我到了要离开盖特威克机场时才想起你们，而史密斯公司恰好有买一赠一的特价，但我还是只买了一块。”对于如何选择送同事的礼物，一些人说在旅行的第一天就出现了轻微的焦虑。还有一个不知所措的家伙则干脆忘得干干净净。这种行为是可忍孰不可忍。

各种品牌意识到了有一种市场叫做“空手而归、小命难保”。三角巧克力至少有四分之一的销售额来自交通枢纽和免税店。骆驼奶巧克力商纳斯玛的大部分产品是在迪拜机场销售的。游客们是不会为了消遣而购买骆驼奶巧克力的。同样的道理也适用于榴莲夹心松露巧克力，因为这种散发恶臭的水果是东南亚的稀罕物。

一名纽约的员工跟我说起一位高管，一次从法国度完年假时带回一整箱高档葡萄酒给大家分享。但是，无论你是处于食物链的最底层还是离顶端更近，任何因为在肯尼迪机场花15美元买了一袋在机场外只卖4美元的花生酱杯而苦恼的人都知道，当你把钱花在你的经理身上时，就感觉钱特别值钱。

伴手礼的字面翻译是“纪念品”——来自拉丁语subvenire（“想起”）。无论我们标榜自己在兼顾工作与生活方面做得有多好，事实是，我们有很大一部分的生命是与同事一起度过的。即使在国外，我们也会想起他们——当我们看到一些美味、美妙或愚蠢的东西时就会想：“伊莎贝尔肯定喜欢。”

不过，如果那个东西很贵、易碎或易腐烂，总还有三角巧克力可以买。人们真的很喜欢这东西。（涂颀译自英国《金融时报》网站8月2日文章）