I didn’t take it, so stop looking at me like that.
The office fridge really is a monument to Pestilence. I think it was last cleaned during the Reagan administration and should probably be classified as a level 4 biohazard. I certainly wouldn’t want to touch anything that’s been in it – let alone put such an item in my mouth (yeah, yeah, that’s what she said).
It’s possible that one of the more advanced ambulatory moulds ate it, but given the recent events in the office, it’s also likely that this was a small, but nevertheless deliberate, act of terrorism.
the other side of the mountain 
lettuce prey…
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*chuckle*
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rAmen.
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When my husband was a resident, he was hungry and went into another resident’s lunch bag, saw a rice cake sandwich with peanut butter, and took a bite. He didn’t like it, so he put it back in the bag. Can you believe that? It’s so awful, it makes me love him. The woman knew who did it, (because only my husband would do such a thing), and she took the rice cake sandwich and smeared it down the front of his locker.
I just love that story.
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That’s good, because it scares the shit out of me.
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Hence why I either eat out or come home for lunch
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wow – you work that close to where you live? Lucky!
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– or three-hour lunch breaks? Lucky!
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Lunch? You people have time to eat lunch. Pah! Slackers.
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Not only that, but they also allow us to take toilet breaks. Employer of the Year 1932.
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Sabotage. Intrigue. Danger. I love it! All that is missing is the handcuffs. Oh wait…do you have the handcuffs?
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Yup. We also have a Tom Cruise lookalike who strolls the passageways humming the Mission: Impossible theme.
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That’s why you should avoid stuff that won’t keep in a lunchbox.
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You’re absolutely right: crocodiles; ex-wives; lava – the list is endless and yet, quite specific, too.
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I once found a pint of blood in our communal fridge, (and I DONT even work in a hospital…)
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Vampires, maybe?
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maybe. I have been noticing lately that my Ina Paarman’s garlic shake keeps on ending up in the trash. (But that could also be my colleagues trying to tell me something about my breath after lunch…)
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I think they call that passive/aggressive.
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I prefer to think of it as a Cold War.
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Guess you won’t be accepting an invitation to dine here anytime soon – or at least until I get around to cleaning out the fridge!
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Depends. Is the mould demanding the right to vote?
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I only have one co-worker, so this isn’t a problem. Although we do occasionally borrow food from each other.
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I sincerely hope you don’t digest it before returning it.
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On the up side, I hear mould is high in penicillin.
Fortunately our tea-lady cleans out the refridgerator every week or else we might have a large penicillin plant.
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Maybe she’s allergic?
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And here I was thinking that rancid taste in the boss’s mouth was that of the destitution, poverty and despair he just inflicted on all those poor folk he just kicked the curb….Again, I grant too much credit…
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True, but it does you credit that you do
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after a while I break down and discard all the 6-months-past-expiry yogurt from the work fridge.
Last time I found 5 sardines in oil.
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Left there by a BP executive, no doubt.
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he has been behaving like an asshole right?
Well, it certainly confirms that you are what you eat.
explains it all.
(too rude?)
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I’d better cut back on the nuts.
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I prefer to think that my office fridge, teeming with mold and mouse droppings nearby, is responsible for my impeccable health. I haven’t taken a sick day in more than two years. Surely I’m building up an infallible immunity. Or, all the toxicity is building up inside of me.
Check back with me in about 30 years.
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I’ll make a note in my diary. I don’t suppose you have designs on the Russian throne, do you?
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Wooooah, freaky! Each comic strip looks disturbingly similar.
Within ever office fridge, secrets and wilted dreams lie buried (and chilled.)
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Every day at the office seems disturbingly familiar.
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