I am the office food thief. I honestly consider it fair wages because I’m also the only one who cleans the refrigerator and the desks. I look for food that’s about to expire and I eat it. I also watch people’s lunches, write their names and the date on it if they forget, and make sure that if a lunch is in the fridge longer than a week and a half, it gets thrown away.

The new manager decides to do something about all this food theft. It is all me. I keep track of all the food in the office. My desk is closest to the fridge for a reason. She says it’s completely unacceptable and that if she catches someone stealing food she’s going to fire them.

So, I stop… and I also stop cleaning out the office fridge. Within about six months, the office fridge is so full of expired food and freezer-burned TV diners as to be unusable. The fridge itself stinks. Worse, certain coworkers have filled their desks with candy and snacks, bags with five chips, quarter-filled Cheetos bags, melted chocolates, etc. Those have attracted mice and insects.

I approach the manager and make an offer: I’ll take on the responsibility of keeping the fridge and desks clear of expired or old food, and in exchange, I can eat what I want.

The manager gives me a weird look like she thinks it’s weird that I like eating almost expired food, or maybe like she realized what was happening… but she accepts.

I take a few evenings after work is over and clean out the fridge with soap and water, check all the foods, throw out the old sack lunches, clean out the desk drawers with soap and water, install new mouse and insect traps, put a new de-stinkifier in the fridge, and go back to being the office food thief… with official sponsorship!

First of all, I’m short — as in, measurably under five feet tall. This happened when I was about thirty-six (then the mother of three). I’m not sure I really looked like I was in my thirties, but I was carrying a “mom purse”.

It was about mid-August and I had previously mentioned to my husband that I would need new shoes soon. We were driving into the city and he said he’d drop me off at [Department Store] so I could get some new shoes. He kept our three young daughters with him.

I walked inside and noticed that the store seemed busier than normal, but it didn’t sink in that school was starting in a matter of days until I saw the chaos in the shoe department. Parents and their kids were cramming the shoe section.

I was standing there confused about where I should look in all this mess, and one of the employees, in the middle of a mad dash across the store, stopped in his tracks and asked me if I needed help.

Me: “I need new shoes.”

He pointed to my right and away from most of the activity.

Employee: “Adult section is that way. What size do you need?”

Me: “Three and a half.”

His mouth gaped wide open and he sputtered for a moment or two while I was trying to suppress my laughter at his stunned expression. He finally pointed to my left.

Employee: “Children’s shoes are over here.”

Yes, I’m now pushing sixty, and I still shop in the children’s shoe section, but that was the funniest reaction I’ve ever had to my extremely small feet. They fit nicely with my extreme lack of stature.

At a burgers-and-frozen-custard drive-thru, we order our meals, and I request a mini sundae of their flavor of the day. This is my minor bad — I miss that their menu has “mini” mix-in shakes but only “small” sundaes — but things get strange from there. The order display says “FOD SUNDAE 2”, with what I only realize as we pull away from the speaker is their two-scoop sundae’s price, which explains the notation. We try to clear that up at the payment window.

Me: “I ordered a mini sundae, but I think the order display may have shown a two-scoop sundae.”

Cashier: “Oh! Sorry. Did you want the mini mix-in, instead?”

Me: “No, a mini sundae, please.”

Cashier: “Oh! Sorry. You want a single scoop of the flavor of the day?”

Me: “Do you have a mini sundae?”

Cashier: “Uh, we have a small sundae.”

I apologize for my sizing confusion and say that the small sundae sounds great. He runs the charge, hands the card back, and asks us to park and wait for our food, and they bring the meals… but no sundae. The receipt shows we were charged for it, so we go back through the drive-thru and are asked to pull to the payment window.

When we arrive, the cashier is holding a small sundae, obviously in the flavor of the day, exactly right.

Cashier: “Here you go. Sorry about that!”

Employee #2: “No, wait! It’s supposed to be the flavor of the day!”

She grabs the sundae from him and runs away. The cashier calls helplessly after [Employee #2].

Cashier: “But that is the flavor of the day!”

The employee soon returned to thrust at the cashier a cup with a single plain scoop of the same custard with no sundae toppings. Then, she rushed off again. The cashier blinked after her and hesitantly offered us the custard. We didn’t have time to try to sort it out further, so we accepted it and left.

I looked up the prices later from the receipt. It looks like it was rung up as a single non-sundae scoop and we thus got what we paid for even if not what we ordered, but it’ll be a while before we consider going to their drive-thru again. At least the eventual custard was good!

Back in the 1970s, I worked in a plywood plant with a crew of 300 men and women. The lunchroom had a few vending machines for soda pop. One day, the vending machine guy didn’t lock the machine properly and so people could get into it. Sometimes people didn’t have change, so we would see someone throw a $5 bill in and take change and their drink.

This went on for a while until all the drinks were gone.

A little while later, the vending machine guy came in. I happened to be in the lunchroom at the time. He realized the machine was not locked and went pale. He opened the machine and discovered that the coin box was full of money, tens and twenties even. He counted the money that was there. Everything was fully paid for and no money missing.

He looked at me, dumbfounded.

Me: “It made it easier to make change with the machine unlocked.”

He never failed to lock it properly after that.

I did a bit of teaching before I realised that it just wasn’t for me. I loved educating and some of the kids were great. The others drove me up the wall and out of teaching altogether. There is nothing like working long hours for low pay — even spending your own money — to try to help someone, only to have it repeatedly thrown back in your face.

A few years later, I’m shopping for a new car, and who do I see but a former student, [Employee], one of the rudest, most arrogant, horrible souls I’ve ever met. He was completely capable of the work but just liked to be a smarta*** and hated to see others get on. He caused constant interruptions, had zero work ethic, and was a bully and a cheater. 

[Employee] looks at me and clearly recognises me but he doesn’t seem to be sure from where. It looks like he is the only employee available. Great.

Me: “I’m looking for a small run around, something fuel-efficient, so low CO2 emissions and low tax. It’s for a company car.”

Employee: “Okay, well, err…. We do have… Hang on. Yes, a good deal on [Model #1] at the moment. Price starts from—”

Me: “Let me stop you there. You are not listening. I want a small, efficient, low-tax car. [Model] is a large car, completely unsuitable for what I asked.”

Employee: “Yes, but the deals on at the moment—”

Me: “I don’t care about the deals. I’ve seen the prices. I need a small, fuel-efficient car. That means low CO2. [Model #1] will cost me more in tax than I would save with a smaller car.”

Employee: “Oh, I, err, have to ask my manager.”

He disappears for some time. He clearly has not changed since his school days. He never could listen to people then.

Employee: “Okay, so I talked to my manager, and we do have a second offer on [Model #1]; it is a lease contract.”

Me: “I just told you I don’t want [Model #1]. [Model #2], [Model #3], and [Model #4] are all far more suitable. Why are you pushing something that I told you I have no interest in? I already said it’s a business car, so it would be business finance.”

Employee: “Well, [Model #1] does have the best deals at the moment.”

Me: “Boring!”

Employee: “What?”

Me: *Louder* “Boring, not listening!”

Employee: “Come on, mate. I’m just trying to do my job!”

The irony is lost on him completely.

Manager: “Is there a problem here?”

Me: “Yeah, can I get another salesperson? This one is incapable of listening.”

Manager: “Oh, sure. Why don’t you step into my office and I will see if I can help?”

I don’t know if [Employee] ever figured out who I was, but it did feel good to give him some of his own medicine. The manager sorted out a great little car for me in no time at all. It’s not so hard when you actually listen, I guess!