Last week while eating lunch with a colleague, we discovered that a bag of potato chips had been stolen from her takeout bag stored in the lunchroom refrigerator. The theft caused understandable consternation that over the course of lunch cooled to irritation. We discussed putting a note on the refrigerator door to let the unknown thief know that although his or her identify was a mystery, the crime had not gone unnoticed. My colleague wrote a draft of the note but then asked me to rewrite it so it would be funny instead of angry.
What follows is my rewrite (with the exception of the first line that was written by my colleague). Since a series of circumstances made it imprudent for my colleague to post the note for general office consumption, I share it here in the hopes it gives you a few laughs. (Princess Bride fans: Can you spot my shout-out to the film?)
To the sticky-fingered chip monger who dug into my Jimmy Johns’ bag and absconded with my unopened bag of potato chips:
How did they taste? I imagined their salty crispness all morning. I looked forward to crunching down the entire serving. I craved them. But imagine my intense disappointment when I opened my bag at lunch time and my chips were gone.
I’m curious…
Are you an equal-opportunity thief?
Do you steal food from all the lunch bags and boxes in the fridge, or do you limit yourself only to take-out bags from certain restaurants? If I had brought a bag of Panera food, for example, would I have been safe?
I notice you left my half-eaten sandwiched untouched. That’s probably because you’re worried about germs. Perhaps you only pilfer sealed food because it’s the more sanitary way to steal. I’m glad you’re concerned about your health because if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.
Maybe that’s why you stole the chips—you wanted to spare me the unhealthy calories and imbibe them yourself. Very selfless of you…
I’ve learned a valuable lesson in all this. Someone in this building—whoever you are--is too cheap to buy your own chips. Instead, you spend your days grazing on other people’s fare.
As a public service to us all, I’d love to know what your food-theft preferences are. That way the rest of us in the building can avoid stocking the fridge with your favorite goodies and you might be forced to steal from the vending machine or even (gasp!) pay for your own food.
Yours truly,
Disappointed Diner
What follows is my rewrite (with the exception of the first line that was written by my colleague). Since a series of circumstances made it imprudent for my colleague to post the note for general office consumption, I share it here in the hopes it gives you a few laughs. (Princess Bride fans: Can you spot my shout-out to the film?)
To the sticky-fingered chip monger who dug into my Jimmy Johns’ bag and absconded with my unopened bag of potato chips:
How did they taste? I imagined their salty crispness all morning. I looked forward to crunching down the entire serving. I craved them. But imagine my intense disappointment when I opened my bag at lunch time and my chips were gone.
I’m curious…
Are you an equal-opportunity thief?
Do you steal food from all the lunch bags and boxes in the fridge, or do you limit yourself only to take-out bags from certain restaurants? If I had brought a bag of Panera food, for example, would I have been safe?
I notice you left my half-eaten sandwiched untouched. That’s probably because you’re worried about germs. Perhaps you only pilfer sealed food because it’s the more sanitary way to steal. I’m glad you’re concerned about your health because if you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.
Maybe that’s why you stole the chips—you wanted to spare me the unhealthy calories and imbibe them yourself. Very selfless of you…
I’ve learned a valuable lesson in all this. Someone in this building—whoever you are--is too cheap to buy your own chips. Instead, you spend your days grazing on other people’s fare.
As a public service to us all, I’d love to know what your food-theft preferences are. That way the rest of us in the building can avoid stocking the fridge with your favorite goodies and you might be forced to steal from the vending machine or even (gasp!) pay for your own food.
Yours truly,
Disappointed Diner