"And that," according Captain Barry Stallard of the San Jose Fire Department, "was when the party started."
I suppose I could conclude this sermonette by inviting you to join me in pledging to clean out the office refrigerator at least once a decade, but it strikes me that the real story here is how you could turn a Kenmore liability into an Amana asset. For example, why not get some intimidation points by packing your lunch in one of those signature blue bags from Tiffany's? Or wave your gourmet flag with a doggy bag from Olive Garden.
If you can't impress with the container that carries your lunch, leverage the ingredients. Bring in ramekins of foie gras and Scottish salmon to suggest that you're on the fast track, salarywise. Bring kimchee and natto to show that you are open to a posting in Asia. Or, if you'd rather go to Norway, stuff your Elvis lunch box with reindeer jerky before leaving it to metastasize in the company of your co-workers' tuna fish. Or demonstrate your commitment to fitness by stocking the fridge with your steroids, or prove that you are a party person by filling the ice trays with guacamole.
If you should be sufficiently unfortunate to have a health nut for your manager, a container of alfalfa sprouts should be your contribution to the crowded refrigerator. Explain that it goes really well with the organic mushrooms you're growing in your bottom desk drawer.
Yes, it takes a little work and preparation, but by adjusting your daily deposit in the office refrigerator. you can boost your career to a point where you can afford to eat lunch out. And. if all else fails, you can always grab a gallon or two of Lysol and evacuate the building.
