Will You Pass the Office Treat Test？ 你能通過辦公室的請客考試嗎？
Madison Darbyshire 麥迪遜·達比希爾
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.
北半球進入夏季。持續攀升的氣溫把公共交通工具變成了一個行走的烤箱，耐不住酷暑的城裏人紛紛逃往更有魅惑力的地方。
這意味著，大約就是現在，周一來到工作崗位的上班族就會收到電子郵件，發自剛度假歸來的同事，邀請大家自行享用美食。很快，同事們像貪婪的螞蟻一樣聚攏過來。
過去一年來，離我辦公桌最近的桌子上先後擺放過：格拉斯米爾的姜餅、葡萄牙的亞速爾風味蛋撻、日本的抹茶奇巧巧克力、保加利亞的餅幹、西班牙的牛軋糖、維也納的威化餅、比利時的焦糖華夫餅、希臘的白巧克力、新加坡的白巧克力和多塞特的圓餅幹。
不知道請客這種做法想在現代辦公室裏傳遞什麽信息。我們這些度假歸來的甜品供應者是要感謝那些在我們自顧自享受著法定假期的時候還在堅守崗位的同事們？還是想對于我們的高雅品味、對于旅行目的地的異域風情或從容平淡發表某些看法？
日本人把這種習俗稱爲“伴手禮”。伴手禮據說起源于15世紀的宗教朝聖之旅，禮物既是完成神聖旅程的一個證據，也是分享祝福的一種方式。伴手禮可以讓留守的同事分享你的旅行體驗。
然而，在夏季的辦公室裏，這些禮物似乎在一定程度上是那些在“誰拿下了八月假期”辦公室大戰中獲勝的人獻上的貢品。蛋撻和蛋糕一片片被越切越小。如果你是在英國工作，最後一塊會被切得只剩下薄薄的一片，甚至能透過光。美國或意大利的同事們則保證可以結束這些甜品所受的酷刑。
人們大快朵頤，對美食客觀的優點（好不好吃？）、主觀的價值（喬納森對這個團隊有多忠心？）評頭論足。我不在乎你們怎麽說，我認爲三角巧克力表明了一種以退爲進。
三角巧克力在無聲地高喊：“我不想做出空手而歸這種公然抱有敵意的行爲，但我到了要離開蓋特威克機場時才想起你們，而史密斯公司恰好有買一贈一的特價，但我還是只買了一塊。”對于如何選擇送同事的禮物，一些人說在旅行的第一天就出現了輕微的焦慮。還有一個不知所措的家夥則幹脆忘得幹幹淨淨。這種行爲是可忍孰不可忍。
各種品牌意識到了有一種市場叫做“空手而歸、小命難保”。三角巧克力至少有四分之一的銷售額來自交通樞紐和免稅店。駱駝奶巧克力商納斯瑪的大部分産品是在迪拜機場銷售的。遊客們是不會爲了消遣而購買駱駝奶巧克力的。同樣的道理也適用于榴蓮夾心松露巧克力，因爲這種散發惡臭的水果是東南亞的稀罕物。
一名紐約的員工跟我說起一位高管，一次從法國度完年假時帶回一整箱高檔葡萄酒給大家分享。但是，無論你是處于食物鏈的最底層還是離頂端更近，任何因爲在肯尼迪機場花15美元買了一袋在機場外只賣4美元的花生醬杯而苦惱的人都知道，當你把錢花在你的經理身上時，就感覺錢特別值錢。
伴手禮的字面翻譯是“紀念品”——來自拉丁語subvenire（“想起”）。無論我們標榜自己在兼顧工作與生活方面做得有多好，事實是，我們有很大一部分的生命是與同事一起度過的。即使在國外，我們也會想起他們——當我們看到一些美味、美妙或愚蠢的東西時就會想：“伊莎貝爾肯定喜歡。”
不過，如果那個東西很貴、易碎或易腐爛，總還有三角巧克力可以買。人們真的很喜歡這東西。（塗颀譯自英國《金融時報》網站8月2日文章）