What's a good plate with nothing on it?

So for those that don't know...I bring in Lean Cuisines to work every week. I actually like these things. Easy to cook, some are fairly tasty and they cost like 3 dollars a pop which is FAR less than you'll spend for a hot meal if you go out everyday. Now we just moved over to a new office space recently, but the fridge where I keep my Lean Cuisines has remained in a similar central office located kitchen area. It's nice...like a little production line. You enter from the left take the food out of the fridge...walk to the microwave...turn it on....grab the fork....and paper towel and then sit back at your desk with your steaming pile of pasta that resembles pasta but it doesn't always meet the expectation. It's a lot like if you went to shake Arnold Schwarzenegger's hand and believe deep down that there is an endoskelaton of a T-800 under there but knowing it's not. It's kinda like that...ok....maybe it isn't.

So...anyways...on with the blog. Lately here at the Ultimate of Software places...we have had a bit of a lunch thief. The person is cunning...attacking people who have left a litany of these microwaveable meals in the freezer. I guess their thought is well...this person has so many...and I have so few...they probably wouldn't miss it if I took one. Well Mr. or Mrs. Panhandler...I think you're wrong. I do miss my Sesame Chicken you son of a bitch.

I've been victimized by this mofo several times in the past few months and I just learned today that someone else got one of theirs stolen. Perhaps I'm buying the wrong kind now eh? Perhaps my Chicken Pecan doesn't conform to your needs come lunch time. I'll have to remember that. I had to start taking a Sharpie and mark down my name on it. Yes...we've gone ALL the way back to 3rd grade cause Mr. or Mrs. Piggy can't seem to keep their hands off someone else's food. It's kind of friggen' ridiculous isn't it? I mean come on...you know that it's not yours. You know deep down as you take the food out of the freezer...open the container...cook it...and eat it...that it's not yours. I know what's mine and I know what isn't. If for some shit chance I walk to the fridge and have NO idea that what is mine...I don't eat it. You know what I'd do? I'd go to Publix and beg the ultra fine Deli lady for a Philly Steak and Cheese sub and pray she doesn't give me any shit (cause that shit is gooooooooood.)