*CHEEKIE NOTE*: Ya’ll heard of PassiveAggressiveNotes.com? Well, if you don’t know, now ya know. *B.I.G.-snarl* Well, a certain Pincher (who shall remain nameless to protect the 2-degrees-of-separation stars of this post, but she know who she be) decided to forgo that heavyweight and send it to me for my rinky-dink blog instead. She likes to keep it real, obviously. Maybe I’ll get as many hits as them now that I’m getting stuff submitted to me nowadays?! ._O
Those of us who work in any sector of corporate-topia know about the ins-and-outs of the communal fridge. The most important (and probably only) rule of the communal fridge is this: DON’T TAKE IT UPON YOURSELF TO PARTAKE IN OTHER PEOPLE’S FOOD.
Sadly, some folks aren’t aware of this rule, they conveniently forgot this rule, or they simply (and unapologetically*) ignore this rule altogether. Look, we know it’s hard out here for a pimp. This is mainly why folks are using communal fridges in the first place. People are brown-baggin’ it more and more. So, while it is understandable that you may be awaiting your next check before you can eat lunch again and Josie’s pasta primavera is looking mighty tasty right now, it is NOT worth it. You better dig deep in your desk drawers, eat that stale instant oatmeal**, and call it a d-a-y.
Apparently, not everyone has learned. To note:
See how this is not a game? The person above made a note to specify that their missing lunch was a Stouffer’s red box. Hell, I thought all Stouffer’s boxes were red and that it was their signature color, but it’s better to be safe than sorry when it comes to nutrition during work hours. And to the person who took it, yes, that’s right, it didn’t belong to you. Contrary to popular belief among heathens, the communal fridge is not equal to a buffet line. This ish is so rampant, folks have to put their names on their lunches. And even then, persistent thieves have some sort of name-blockage radar that causes them to take someone else’s viddles anyway.
And victim is so eager to have their lunch in peace, they’ve offered to forget it even happened. But naw, I bet this hoodlum is off somewhere microwaving the stolen lunch on a floor they have never been to before, thinking they slick.
This one occurrence definitely had an impact on the rest of the office. And by “impact”, I mean:
WHAT did I tell ya’ll?! And who knows what’s even in this bag? It could be leftover’s from a delectable Soul Food dinner or a TV-dish that tastes like MSG and regret, but it doesn’t matter. The point is, lunchtime is a valued time in the workplace. And some klepto nabbing your food can understandably ruin said lunchtime.
Bottom line, in terms of lunch-stealing: Don’t do it. Much like the person who wishes a mother would, the owner will find you on some Antoine Dodson ish. So, I suggest that instead of trying to be a brave Grabby McGrabberson, just play it safe and make you a salad of sugar, pepper, non-sugar sweetener, and salt packets. Sure your tummy will complain, but at least you’ll be jacked-less. If I’ve touched just one young soul out there and stopped them from getting mollywhopped on the 15th floor, I’ve done my charitable job for the week.
Happy Friday, Pinchers! Have a great weekend! Which, I’m sure will be accomplished if you eat your own lunch and not your coworker’s. Remember: a weekend spent recovering at the hospital is not a great weekend.
Love ya like Randy Jackson loves dawgs,