“Monday, lunch will be provided,” the email read.
As lunch time nears, another email arrives stating the the food is now here. It’s set up in a cubical near mine.
I stand up and realize that several of the women are pawing through the boxes trying to see what is inside, even though each has a “code” on the outside of the box.
When it’s my turn to get a box, I grab one from the bottom.
I get a weird look.
“Sorry, I have issues, I can’t eat one that’s been opened and touched.”
I shrug and walk away.
I can’t and won’t eat after you’ve touched my food. I can’t eat your left overs. I don’t like sharing dessert with you without each of us getting our own plates.
Pour some m&m’s into a bowl and dig in. Hand the bowl to me. I won’t eat any.
Yes, I have issues. Just ask anyone who has met me.