Did I publish three of these yet? No. Is this one called four because there IS a third one on my hard drive? Yes.
Click through for the full experience.
At my office, there are no company utensils. They’re trying to be green, so you have to bring a fork and spoon from home and keep them in your desk.
This is totally fine most of the time, except sometimes I have an awkward moment where I have to take my fork to the bathroom.
The bathroom is between my desk and the lunch room. Come the lunch hour, this necessitates a logically maddening double-back to collect the fork. Or. I can choose to wander bravely into the washroom carrying only the fork, a choice that clearly states to everyone that I Just Do Not Care About Being Cool.
But then once I’m in the bathroom, I’m struck with terrible anxiety. What do I do with the fork? Do I leave it on the counter, within splashing distance of the overenthusiastic hand washers? That would announce to everyone that I probably have an incurable mouth disease. Do I take it into the stall with me? That’s more private but I don’t want to seem like some weirdo with mysterious fork-related bathroom needs. I mean what am I even doing in there?
But if I can ninja the fork into the stall no one even has to know.
So as not to attract attention, I act real squirrelly en route to the stall, constantly checking my blind spots for possible witnesses I will have to murder.
Having successfully avoided human contact, I sigh out a sweet breath of relief and carefully balance my fork on the handily-located toilet paper shredder. Stealth is very important. A misstep here can alert the entire ladies’ room that someone has brought cutlery to the party.
Then of course all that’s left to do is to escape with dignity.
First post, hooray! Now on to something less boring.