How about that lunch of yours?

Dear Steven,

I missed you at lunch today. I must've gone on break just after you finished. Darn the bad timing, right?

How was your sandwich? It certainly looked delicious, all that prosciutto and provolone stacked lovingly under a layer of sweet honey mustard and zippy ranch dressing. And that bread! A plump, soft, melt-in-your-mouth kaiser roll that looked like it had been lightly buttered and then sprinkled with, what was that, rosemary? Mmm mmm. That sounds pretty amazing right about now.

I actually thought about having the exact same thing today. No kidding! In fact, when I packed my lunch this morning I thought to myself, "Boy, a ham and provolone sandwich would go awfully good with these new jalapeno-flavored kettle chips!"

That reminds me, Steven, how were your chips? Were they tasty? Did you appreciate their crispness and subtle blend of sweet and salty notes? I sure hope you savored each mouthful of those crunchy, peppery snacks, as I don't suspect you'll be enjoying them again anytime in the near future.

Because if you even think about taking my lunch one more time, so help me God, I will take you down. I will urinate on your breakfast bars, dip your keyboard in vinegar, and replace the creamer in your coffee with my own, private milk. You know what I mean. Seriously, if you even so much as steal a sideways glance of my knapsack, I will poison everything in your kitchen.

And another thing: what am I supposed to eat for lunch now? Did you think about that during your petty lunch thievery? I clearly didn't possess the foresight to know someone was going to steal my food, so I went ahead and just packed the one lunch for today. Darn my lack of psychic abilities, right?

I did the due diligence and searched for anything I thought might be your lunch, just in case we were involved in some sort of lunch swap that you forgot to tell me about, but I didn't find a litter box or any rotten potatoes. (Attached to this note you'll find a packet of breath mints. Take the hint.) So I'll assume you forgot to bring yours and were too cheap to walk across the street to get a hamburger.

So here's the deal: you keep your grubby hands off my future lunches and, in return, I don't sprinkle your world with asbestos. (I know a guy.)


Hungrily,
Your coworker