Notice To The Office On Kitchen Etiquette

You people are monsters.

A man (or woman, #yesalleverbodys) suffers enough indignities in this world. Cast into an uncaring universe, a place where cruelty multiplies as the years pass by. The horror of life is not in having something bad happen. It is in having the same terrible things happen over and over and over and vainly wishing for something to change.

Now, of all of these indignities, is the travesty that occurred today the worst possible thing that could happen to someone? Most likely not. On the spectrum of human cruelty there are certainly more appalling entries, what with war and human trafficking and Tyler Perry movies and more war.

Solace can be hard to come by, but it can be found. A spiritual oasis that restores your faith – in humanity, in the universe, in yourself. Occasionally it takes the form of a single, solitary, boysenberry flavored Dannon™ Fruit On The Bottom yogurt. One hundred and fifty calories that provide much more than just an “excellent source of calcium”. Relief, hope, a break from tedium, the sweet taste of life just a little bit better. It is an excellent source of that.


And are these previously cited circumstances somewhat self inflicted? I suppose you could say that.

Was time at college spent studying the heady issues of the day? Not exactly. Did a robust life of the mind truly take root? It appeared to be shallow soil. Were boundaries of academic achievement stretched and pushed? Only lightly.

Truth be told a lot of time in “academia” was spent getting high outside the campus bookstore after, before, or (on a few occasions) during shifts there. Which, granted, is not the best way to spend your formative years but Taco had some pretty crazy stories to tell.

And maybe when it came time to apply for jobs some of us just typed “jobz” with a Z into Google and applied to what came up. When asked to describe our strengths in an interview, some of us may have answered “I’m usually on time”. And just maybe some of us have been told that telling customers that they need to stop “busting my ballz” (also with a Z, which was not noted on the HR forms) is unprofessional.

You know what’s unprofessional Janet? THEFT.

Maybe this is something one should just get over. Maybe.

The fact remains: to rob someone of the curdled, sugary taste of peace is so nefarious that it isn’t even a crime. It is a travesty.

You’ve pushed me too far for too long motherfuckers. Today is the day that I stop being a Regional Sales Rep and start being a man! Right after I clock out at 5.

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