Office Fridge Pillagers: The Great Scourge of Modern Civilized Society
If you are unlucky enough to not be independently wealthy, chances are you regularly visit a shared work environment. If you are a human, chances are you will need to eat sometime during the eight to 12 hours you spend in said work environment.
Courtesy of the actual New Times office fridge. Sure, it's probably just coffee creamer, but who among you would be the first to test it?
To this end, many benevolent employers provide what is commonly known as a break room, and in that break room there is often a refrigerator.
It is inside of this benign-looking box that the very social fabric that normally binds coworkers together breaks down. For some reason, otherwise normal, law-abiding citizens who would never contemplate theft break free of social mores.
The fridge pillager is perhaps one of the greatest scourges of everyday life for the average working American. His (or her) perfidy knows no bounds.
And maybe the most frustrating aspect of all of this is the reasoning that leads someone to do this in the first place.
Does low blood sugar compromise people's faculties so that they are able to delude themselves into believing, "Oh, maybe I brought this in the morning and forgot about it"?
Just being hungry doesn't seem like incentive enough; could it be a primordial urge? The drive for food -- one of the most basic of needs -- is so strong that it stirs up caveman-esque feelings of resource competition?
Are there, perhaps, people in the world who subscribe to "finders keepers" when it comes to the inside of a refrigerator? Do these people believe that the interior of the fridge is eternally exempt from the concept of personal property? If you put it there, it is legitimately for everyone and you have no right to expect it to be there when you get back.
Or is it just regular old, selfish asshattery -- "You left it. I see it. I'm taking it. Go fuck yourself."
The truth is, unless the perpetrators 'fess up to their reasoning, we'll never know. And, of course, they never will, because the same base impulse that leads them to heartlessly steal food that does not belong to them also fuels in the victim a rage rarely seen outside of an I-95 driver's seat at 5:08 p.m. on a weekday.
Anyone who has discovered his or her food MIA knows the rage to which we refer.
First comes denial. "No, it has to be here. No way someone took it. I mean, [nervous chuckle] what kind of person would do something like that? What kind of low-life, scum-bag, jackassed, selfish lump of worthless human excrement would do something as pathetic and disgusting as take someone else's food?"
(And we haven't even gotten to the rage yet.)
Then comes the rage.
"MOTHER #@!&%$!!! STUPID #@!&%$ #@!&%$!!!! WHEN I FIND YOU #@!&%$, I WILL #@!&%$ YOUR #@!&%$ SO HARD YOUR GRANDCHILDREN WILL WALK FUNNY!!!!"