Permeating the walls and halls,
The fumes worse than bathroom stalls,
You thought you’d have a nice, warm snack—
Instead it’s a mustard gas attack.
The popcorn doesn’t need that long.
The smoke means you’ve done it wrong.
Last night’s curry should have stayed at home-a,
Now we’re sick from that aroma.
And YOU—with the leftover trout.
Pack up your things and just get out.
If nuking fish is your bailiwick,
Find somewhere else to make people sick.
Crimes against noses linger for hours.
I feel like I need a Silkwood shower.
My nostrils are thoroughly defeated.
Are you sure that “food” should be reheated?
I don’t work in an office anymore, but I cook lunch every morning for my sandwich-hating, food-allergic kid. Fish sticks at 8AM, folks. Takes me back to my cube farm days, and not in a good way.
The popcorn was meant to be the other child’s snack. It only took eight hours or so for that to dissipate.