642 Tiny Things to Write About: It’s Alive!

In your office fridge, an angry note left by a co-worker.

Office refrigerators are an interesting microcosm of the overall office culture and happenings.  You can tell who is on a diet (salads! low-fat dressing!), the Keto enthusiast (that weird vegetable “pasta” dish with beef) and the millennial who seems to live on whole wheat pizza and mineral water.

My work environment is an IT shop, with a disproportionate number of men vs women.  While we don’t have issues with people stealing each others food, there is a consistent issue with food that is allowed to linger long past its palatable or even edible state.  These lunch items usually belong to one of the men, who are inclined to believe that dealing with these weird biological experiments and the refrigerator as a whole, is someone else’s job.   And I’m not talking something that has gone stale, no, these items have become the basis of horror stories–something benign that has evolved into the yogurt that ate the administrative staff. Or at the very least stunk up the break room to an unbearable level.

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What eventually occurs is one of us women gets to the point of frustration and goes on a vengeful cleaning spree threatening to toss out every questionable item in the office ‘fridge.   However, not before a note like below is sent out.  Below  is a verbatim note that one of my colleagues wrote.  My notes to be more on the humorous side; I once sent out an email out with a link to the “What the Hell is That?” sketch from Saturday Night Live, with the number for our local Hazmat team.

“Dear fellow employees.  The right hand refrigerator is currently emitting a smell that would kill a small village.  Please look at your items and toss out any item that has gone off.  Any questionable items will be tossed at the end of today and I don’t care how expensive that glass container from Bed, Bath Beyond was, it’s getting tossed with your “food”.  We are not your maids. We are not your mothers.  Clean up your act”

One could hope that one note like the above would be enough, but I know that soon we will be dealing with the pasta salad that ate San Francisco and another purge will be done, along with the accompanying pointed note.

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