Plastic Bag Bandit


You know those instances where you read something that happened to someone, or maybe even overheard someone retelling a story that makes you think, “hmmm…that would never happen to me”? Well, I frequent Reddit a lot, usually scanning over users answers to AskReddit questions, so this thought is always fresh in my mind.

A couple of weeks ago someone proposed the question “What are some simple work etiquette’s that most people just don’t get?” Now, being the Reddit professional I am (*cough* almost 30,000 karma points AND gilded by some kind stranger *cough*) I went with an answer that I figured people would react to the most**. My answer to this was along the lines of “if the food/drink in the fridge isn’t yours, don’t eat/drink it.” Pretty simple. It’s common knowledge and is an issue that should be brought up to the Office Kitchen Police Department (OKPD) if it ever occurs to you or a loved one, because you’re essentially stealing from someone. (I also racked up the karma points for that one!)

**Okay, I confess. I knew my response to this question would get a lot of upvotes, because the question gets reposted a lot, and I’ve seen the success the answer’s had in the past. You happy?

Anyway, something similar happened to me this morning when I got in to work, however it’s almost 10 times as sad; like, 9.7. Let me give you a little background before we dive in: last Friday I had some leftovers for lunch I forgot to grab from the fridge before I left, so when I came in Monday morning, new lunch packed, I saw my leftovers and figured I would eat that first before it got too old/gross. I did exactly that, and kept what I brought in for lunch Monday and ate it for lunch today (yesterday was a holiday). Following along? No? Cool, let’s move on.

I get into work this morning, go to the fridge to put what else I brought for lunch in my bag from Monday, but it’s nowhere to be found. I stand there, staring at an open fridge, just waiting for my lunch to magically appear before my eyes. Kind of like a young child hoping to catch a glimpse of Old Saint Nick on Christmas Eve: he sets up by the nice, cozy fire, waits, next thing he knows, it’s morning and he accidentally fell asleep and the presents are already there (damn it, kid, you’re lucky you’re cute). Unfortunately for me, I wasn’t as lucky as the cute little kid who woke up to presents. Did I wake up from my trance to my bag being in the fridge, brought by some mythical (yet totally real) human? No. I did not. It wasn’t there. I’m looking on every shelf, moving cans, bottles, even other people’s lunches around in search of my lunch. Then it hits me: someone stole my lunch. Shock filled every inch of my body.

After a few frozen minutes of “deer-in-headlights” look, I spot something that eerily looks like the sub roll I make my sandwiches with wrapped in aluminum foil. As I look closer, I also see the turkey and granola bar I packed Monday morning underneath it. Could it be? Did someone really steal the plastic bag I brought my lunch in?


Someone stole my plastic bag. Someone opened up the fridge, took MY food out of MY plastic bag and put it back on the shelf. Seriously? WHO THE HELL STEALS SOMEONE’S PLASTIC BAG?! The only way I’ll forgive whomever stole my plastic bag is if they tell me some stranger came in after I left for the day on Monday, holding a weapon they recently murdered someone with, and demanded a plastic bag to dispose of the evidence with (after they take me out to lunch tomorrow of course).

After minutes of anger and hatred raced through my veins, I put my chips on top of the rest of the ingredients of a hearty lunch and shut the door to the fridge. I’ve spent all of today plotting my revenge for whenever I find out who stole my bag. I’m thinking something along the lines of taking a screenshot of their desktop and making it their background, or tearing off all of the erasers on their pencils. Something that will leave them with the same feeling of shock and sadness I had when I realized we have a plastic bag bandit (remind me to trademark that) at the office, and they chose my poor, innocent bag as a victim.

Can you believe it? The audacity some people have nowadays…


Why You Gotta Do Dis to Me?


Before I get started, I would like to talk about my last post. That post was a result of me spending way too much time on this reading scary stories to pass the time at work. I thought to myself, “hey, I can write stories like these!” so, voila! I may continue it, I may not, you’ll just have to come back and see. But, since I haven’t been on that subreddit since starting that story, you’ll have better luck putting your money down on California Chrome winning at Belmont June 7th, to complete the first Triple Crown since the product of world-renowned(?) breeder Harbor View Farm’s very own Affirmed won it 1978. Anyway, on with the show!

Graduating from college is one of the most depressing things a human being could ever endure. One day you’re waking up at 2:00pm from a night of drunken embarrassment, just to stumble your way to your only class of the day – Underwater Tech Decking 576, 2:30pm (that’s right, you read that correctly, that, my friends, is an advanced class) – and the next day you’re in the real world, begging for a job like the desperate girl who wants to fit in so badly she stumbles her way across the Quad to her 2:30pm advanced Tech Decking class (obviously all the cool kids are taking it, so don’t tell me you wouldn’t risk your life to get to that class). It’s such a dramatic change, no wonder people prolong it and go to graduate school.

Here’s what really rubs me the wrong way about the application process: you’ve done all you can do – submitted application after application, tweaking your resume and cover letter to the job description; watched all of the interview videos your post-college career brain can handle on YouTube; got your suit pressed for the time your interview comes; etc. then comes the worlds longest waiting game. All you’re hoping for is to hear back from that one company who noticed one of your accomplishments is taking home Gold at the 2013 U23 Tech Deck World Championship (finally, all those late night study sessions paid off!) and thought, “Hey! I’ve never seen that before! Let’s bring this young-buck in!” But, in today’s world, where it’s not really what you know, it’s who you know – i.e. no stranger is worth anybody’s time, because time is money, and money is the most powerful thing in the world (hey! What about social media? – any millennial you’ll ever speak to, ever) – you’ll be waiting longer for that email/phone call to come than that girl who got stood up in that one movie about the thing, you know…the one you’re currently thinking about.

Shortly after you apply, you most likely get an email stating they got your application and someone from HR will review it and get back to you within three weeks. So, during those three weeks you begin to paint a picture of yourself sitting in the new age, modern office, equipped with the top of the line iMac’s, where everyone is dressed in the newest fashion trends you find on Urban Outfitters, and you can’t help but to get your hopes up (I mean, that IS one appealing picture, amirite?). You mark off on your calendar 21 days to initiate the countdown, and the closer you get to that date without receiving anything from Mr./Mrs. HR, a little piece of your heart breaks off. You then come to realization your email never did make it to HR, the stupid fucking algorithm that sends out automatic replies is a pathological liar, and you start that process all over again; this time, more depressed than ever.

Excuse my French, but is it that freaking hard for someone to stay true to their word and reply back to you, even if you don’t get the job, within the given period of time? It literally takes less than a minute for someone in HR (hell, utilize the intern) to draft up something along the lines of:

Dear Mr. Aponte (enter x2) Thank you for applying for the [insert job title here] position at [insert company of your choice]. Unfortunately, we have found someone else whose qualifications better suit the job description. We appreciate your time applying and will keep your resume on file for future positions. (enter x2) Thanks and good luck, (enter x1) Sandra Dean.

Even receiving an email as simple as that mends a few pieces of your heart back together after suffering through the countdown. Never in your life will you be somewhat relieved to have gotten bad news, simply because you have evidence stating your application and resume were actually reviewed (even if it was just another pathologically lying algorithm).

For all of those virgins-to-the-real-world who recently graduated and don’t have anything lined up yet, I seriously encourage you to A) go back in time and fail your finals, B) start passing out your resume as if you were a Lady of the Night who is 5 jobs away from her monthly quota with only 3 hours left, or C) strongly consider graduate school while you’re still in college mode. It’s a pretty rough life out there.

Good luck,

Ms. (soon to be Misses!!!!11!1!111!) Dean.

Human Resources (BITCH) Rep.