Friday, January 11, 2008
I hate people.
Well, only sometimes. And not as often as I used to, when I was still waiting tables.
Still . . .
I went into our staff's kitchen, at work, to grab my fifty-cent container of generic yogurt out of the refrigerator. There was a white, Styrofoam take-out container, as there usually is, on the middle shelf. Most people just scrawl their name on the surface of the compressed, spongy micro-dots. This container had attached to it a hot-pink post-it note with a name and the following words: "Please do not eat--I spit on it."
The message, which had a heart doodled around the name, was followed by a doodled happy face with a tongue sticking playfully out of the doodled mouth.
Highly annoying, as BFF Kathy says.
"So did I," I added to the bottom of the note.