Someone Stole My Lunch at Work

The other day, I had packed a nice lunch. I brought it in to work and placed it in the fridge in the customary fashion. Later, when I was ready to consume said lunch, it was MISSING.

Now, I’m reviewing the possibilities here. I’m not sure if aliens wanted to take my sandwich in for a cultural examination, perhaps? If you saw any evidence of aliens in or around the breakroom last Wednesday, please let me know. There is also the possibility that somehow someone may’ve accidentally let in a pack of wild dogs, and in their mad wanderings about the building, they mastered use of their forelimbs as refrigerator-opening devices. Or that spontaneous combustion does indeed exist and in this unlucky case, claimed my lunch. Please notify me had you seen roving dogs or random poofs of smoke in the vicinity of the refrigerator this Wednesday past.

I had at one point considered that one of my own coworkers may’ve stolen my lunch, but I can’t fathom that terrible theory. I apologize that I’d even temporarily entertained that notion. That would mean there is a cad amongst us, someone base and vile with no more morality than a filching crow. I mean, that kind of flouting of the basic etiquette that holds together the social fabric of a workplace, the absolute immorality, the flagrant disregard that one human being would hold for another to cavalierly dash my expectations of eating my meal just so he or she could not have to bother packing a lunch of their own or save a few dollars, that they somehow think they DESERVE to own my lunch…yes, certainly no one here could be that low. That is the kind of person that would stick their hand right in my pocket and take a few dollars out if it was convenient to them. People who feel no guilt or shame over such acts of harming others have a pathological emotional disturbance and this shows in their actions. Nope, we’d know if any amongst us were that despicable…we could sense it on them, something sinister, like it emanates from their breath and is visible when we gaze into their eyes of pure evil.

Thankfully, I’ve got a plan to flush out these aliens/wild dogs (although if it’s the spontaneous combustion thing, I’ve got nothing…I’ll just hope that it’s like lightning and doesn’t strike twice). I’ve decided that occasionally and at unknowable random times, I’ll bring a lunch that is simply a plant and not intended for human consumption. Knowing assuredly as I do that none of you, my esteemed and morally upright coworkers, would swipe my possessions if I momentarily leave them unguarded, I will not feel a twinge of guilt at the horrible things I shall disguise in this lunch. My favorite idea is simply to assure that one ingredient is quite spoiled but undetectable…mayonnaise is a good one, it’s undetectable and can cause something like 17 hours of wretched, unforgettable hours spent over the crapper, and years of psychological trauma when again faced with innocent words such as “mayo” or “sandwich”. I read once about a guy who put a Hungry Man dinner outside in the sun for like a month, then refroze it in the freezer at work and left it there; he said he immediately recognized who ate it because of the ensuing time they spent in the restroom that day. (He didn’t mention from which orifice the criminal re-issued the meal…but I think either way captures the deserved magic.)

In conclusion, I would like to apologize for any others of you that may have similarly fallen prey to such behavior, although it will soon be cured, not in a way that might appeal to their humanity (which they apparently lack), but in the way that trained rats may learn to hear-a-bell-get-a-shock, and they shall be retrained on the path of correct behavior the hard way since the way their mama taught them clearly didn’t “take”.