… so once upon a time, I had this boyfriend. This was in college. We could call him my “college boyfriend”. I suppose that would make sense. … so my college boyfriend, he was really stressed out about something or other, so I went over to his dorm and offered to clean things up a bit, etc. He had some leftover pizza. Four slices of it. Exactly 1/2 of the original pizza. Now pizza reheated in the microwave is kinda gross. So I put it on a cookie sheet and took it to the dorm kitchen one floor up. I turned the oven on and placed the pizza inside. Then I went back to his dorm and took his recyclables out.
This story might sound boring, but it’s not. Trust me. Because then I went back to the kitchen to retrieve the pizza, and WHAT?!?! There were 3 slices left?!?!
I don’t even know where to begin in complaining about that. At UNC, we have something published in our student newspaper ever Friday called the “Kvetching Board”. Get a feel for it by reading yesterday’s. … so I wrote the DTH (hip slang for “the daily tar heel”), saying, “To the person who stole my pizza from the 2nd floor E-haus kitchen, I’m still hungry!” And they published it. Naturally. Stealing pizza violates any definition of basic human decency.
… speaking of human decency… we have a bit of a situation in my building at work. I work on the 11th floor of a 15-floor tall building. A single company occupies quite a few of the remaining floors. On most floors, outside of the elevator/foyer area, the floor is off-limits unless you have a fancy badge thingamajig. Which I don’t have. Not that I would wander around other floors regardless. Because that would be weird.
So there’s this area on my floor that isn’t occupied by any particular company or organization. It’s basically just a hallway with some bathrooms and vending machines. That’s where the bathroom for the entire floor is. So since I work 8 hours a day and like to drink at least a smidgen as I do so, I visit the bathroom from time to time. As do my other coworkers. It’s only natural.
Here’s what’s happening in that bathroom of ours:
- One women with OCD comes in, spends 5 minutes washing her hands, then spends the next half hour doing something in the stall that requires her feet to point TOWARD the toilet.
- Another woman insists on changing in the bathroom which somehow requires her to have a duffel bag, completely unpacked in the middle of the bathroom.
- A third woman yelled “look behind you” as I entered the bathroom the other day, then passed me on her way out as though nothing had happened.
- And a fourth woman likes to go into one of the stalls, stuff toilet paper between the stall walls and the door, and listen to music on her phone. Sometimes, she checks her voicemail on speakerphone too.
So Val (you know Val) decided to confront this fourth woman when she was in our bathroom one day. She knocked on the stall door and said “Excuse me, do you work on this floor?” The woman’s snarky response: “Is this a restricted floor? I didn’t know this was restricted.” And the conversation went on, through the stall door, where this woman defended her behavior.
So the moral of these stories: just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Be a decent human being and consider the possibility that there are other people in this world.