An Open Letter

Dear Person Who Ate My Lunch Out Of The Freezer At Work Today:


I mean, I hear about this kind of lunch thievery all the time, but…I thought that people were just losing their lunches or being paranoid or something.  I didn’t know people like you actually exist.  You’re like the Lunchroom Boogeyman, but frightfully real, it turns out.

So, back to my original question:  Really?

You really ate someone else’s Weight Watchers® Smart Ones Santa Fe Chicken (now with a full serving of vegetables!) out of the lunchroom freezer?  Were you that desperate for food?  Because — truth be told — even I wasn’t looking forward to eating frozen chicken mush with sad little bell peppers and mealy black beans.  Not at all.  But you, apparently, were just that desperate.

There’s a cafeteria downstairs, you know.  And it actually has pretty decent food.  And there are about — oh, I don’t know — 75 million restaurants in the immediate vicinity.  This is Houston, after all.

But not for you, you rebel.  No.  You would rather break bad by surreptitiously nuking someone else’s frozen entree instead of buying a lunch or just bringing your own food from home.

I hope it was good.  I hope you enjoyed your full serving of vegetables and the twenty grams of protein that my lunch provided you.  Because at least then I’ll be sort okay with this whole “stealing my lunch” thing.  I mean, you got a nutritious meal and who am I to say that’s necessarily a bad thing, even if you did have to resort of sneakthievery for your nutrition needs?

But if you didn’t like it?  If it wasn’t good, or if you only took a few bites and then threw it out?  Then I’ll be pissed.  Because I’m the only one that’s allowed to decide whether or not the lunch I’ve purchased is crap.  And even if it is crap, I will totally choke it down anyway.  You know why?  Because that’s the only food I brought today and I’m hungry.

Which brings me to my next question: Since you so graciously helped yourself to my lunch, what were you imagining that I would eat in its place?  A cup of Butternut hot chocolate (that ubiquitously and mysteriously resides in every office lunchroom the world over)?  A sugar packet or two from the coffee bar?  Maybe help myself to some Hershey’s Kisses on my coworker’s desk?  Because none of those are particularly appealing choices for me.

Maybe next time you steal someone’s lunch, you can leave them a little note in lieu of the food, suggesting what they should eat in its place.  That would have been helpful.  Instead, I clawed around the freezer for a good five minutes looking for my lunch, tossing frozen bricks of food aside hither and thither like a madwoman.  A note would have made this entire expedition unnecessary and maybe I wouldn’t hate you as much as I do right now…

Nope.  I’d probably still hate you.

In closing, I hope you choked on my Santa Fe Chicken, you thieving bastard.  You suck.