Vomit Comet

My cube is not far from the kitchenette in our office. It’s a long skinny thing that has no doors. There’s a fridge and a coffee maker and lots of free teas and usually fresh coffee. There’s a microwave and a toaster; an ice machine and a sink. It’s pretty standard office kitchen fare.

There are no women with hairnets. There are no ticket punchers or crates full of milk. There are no lunch wardens making sure we don’t get up and run around during the meal. There’s certainly no government assistance if you are hungry. There is no cheap greasy food for purchase.

Why, then does the entire office smell like my elementary school gym right after lunch? A little bit of soured milk and a whole lot of processed turkey and mashed potatoes? Anybody?

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