About a month ago, a colleague whose husband was headed to the US on business asked me if there was anything I would like her to have him bring back. It was a very kind offer, but as Dr. Darling and I had stocked up on anti-perspirant and over-the-counter cold medicine when we were there in January, I really didn’t *need* anything.
But I wanted to be sure I’d get asked again in the future (her husband makes the trip about four times a year), so I suggested a bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup miniatures. Reese’s original cups can be found in specialty import stores here in Vikingland (where they cost an arm and a leg), but I’ve never seen the miniatures, which at least provide the illusion of encouraging portion-control.
Naturally my colleague delivered them to me at work, and as they were sort of an unexpected windfall, I had no qualms about opening the bag immediately and sharing with a few of my office-mates.
Now in my experience, Swedes are not crazy about peanut butter as a general rule, but I’ve witnessed many conversions once they’ve had it paired with chocolate. Which is why there’s something a little thrilling about seeing someone taste a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup for the first time.
The reaction of one of my HR pals was typical: “Oh my God this is the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life!” She then proceeded to scold me for not introducing her to them earlier, because she was just back from an Easter Week trip to New York City where she could have stocked up had she known. My boss was similarly moved by the experience, but was very conveniently scheduled to visit one or our subsidiaries in Atlanta in a little over a week.
Later, in the course of an e-mail exchange with a US colleague who was also going to be at the Atlanta meeting, I asked her to remind my boss to be sure to pick up a bag of Reese’s miniatures. She replied that she’d do me one better by buying them herself and personally delivering them to our VP of Marketing & Comm, which was such a typical American response that it still warms my heart just to think about it.
Needless to say, I was eager to get my boss’s reaction to the somewhat accidentally arranged gift when she returned to Sweden. But when I arrived at the office the first day she was back, I found the bag of Reese’s minis on my chair with a post-it note saying “Compliments of your compatriot!” And even when I explained that our colleague had volunteered to get the candy and we really intended it for her, she insisted that I keep it.