On Hoarding.
“The sage does not hoard. Having bestowed all he has on others, he has yet more; Having given all he has to others, he is richer still.” - Lao Tzu
Fellow co-workers, trolls are real and they work in tech support. But what defines a troll you say? Hoarding. Specifically “unnatural” hoarding.
We’re all familiar with the playful chipmunk, collecting acorns and apricot pits, french fries and waffle cone bits—this is natural, chipmunks hoard for winter. But co-workers?
The food hoard:
We all love a bowl of microwaved butternut squash soup a work, and who doesn’t dig lentils. Hell, I can recall plenty of times I nuked clam chowder and dug in with a fist full of saltines—but what in the Christ is with all the canned fish? Folks, this is just a sample. Seriously there are like eight more boxes of soup. And for the love of Pete, this son of a bitch must be oozing with omega 3s from canned salmon and anchovy tin. I’ll forgive the tuna, but that olive oil has no business being there and I can’t even fathom what its for.
I don’t know…maybe it has something to do with these fucking bananas and bottles of lotion:
Bushel of bananas? Fine. Great. Who doesn’t love a nanner every once in a while? Thing is…I’m almost certain these are the only food items hoarded in this cube that aren’t for eating, or at the very least, aren’t for being hoarded in anticipation of some copy machine cataclysm that forces employees to form post-apocalyptic, scavenger tribes. Evidence you say? How about the bottles of moisturizing lotion and cocoa butter, nestled snuggly beside that dented Kleenex box? You know what I’m getting at? Wake up and smell the canned salmon!
Ladies, gentlemen—I firmly believe that lotion, butter, and olive oil is for nothing less than masturbating those bananas.
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