Lunchroom Bandit

These past few days have been dark ones at work. We have a thief. He is tall and lanky and topped with dark bushy hair. He talks with a slur and claims to be with the janitorial service. He likes pimento cheese sandwiches. Carrots escape his furl.

Soon our real custodians will be installing locks on the door to our lunchroom, to keep hungry thieves out. As far as I know, this man is the only one who’s raided our fridge so far, but he’s probably spreading the word: “Those people know how to pack a lunch.”

Part of me wishes we could wait a while on the locks. We’ve been devising alternate plans that would be a little more fun. They involve laxatives, tabasco, and cayenne pepper. We’ve also considered biohazard warning signs and urine sample cups. But, the higher-ups seem to like the lock idea.

This morning, one of the lunchroom victims saw the thief outside the building. She bravely asked him if he had been in our building yesterday. He angrily denied any association with our building on the day in question, but she made sure to let him know that she noticed the bag of empty tupperware containers he was carrying. Now, our security guard is on the prowl.

I’ll be eating out today.