Food Fight: Episode 1: Attack Of The Passive Aggressive College Dorm Note Leaving!

Refrigerate after opening.

For anyone that has ever bothered to listen to my stand up either in person or by mere coincidence, to you I say, thank you.  Also, I'm sorry it wasn't what you dreamed of or what you wanted or what it was.  Also, I don't know why I'm making this apology vaguely sexual.  Either or, if you have heard any of my stand up, you may be aware that I have a joke about a person at my office job establishment that is a serious fridge Nazi.  I understand the comparison is weak at best, but besides using the term Nazi to describe historically accurate human atrocities, I'm pretty sure I can use it to describe someone being uptight and territorial about refrigerator space.  I'm pretty sure.

Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by my own logic, said member of the Third Reich takes SERIOUS issue when anyone in the office leaves anything in the shared refrigerator longer than 24 hours without properly labeling their food items with precise person name and food birth/death date attached via permanent marking devices.  This is in fact SO GODDAMN IMPORTANT that in the past, when I've ignorantly and viciously left bottles of hot sauce just like, OUT and NOT IN THE FRIDGE, previously mentioned She-Wolf of the S.S. will place these bottles of spice and vinegar that require absolutely no refrigeration, within the confines of the shared office refrigerator for the sole purpose of leaving a passive aggressive college dorm-like note upon them that reads, "Who do these belong to?" in a tone I can only assume is fraught with panic and anxiety.

I initially responded to this act of war with tolerance and understanding, merely removing the panicked Post-it and marking each bottle with my namesake.  The expiration was left out due to the fact it was currently typed already on each bottle.  I feel this was a kind and fair gesture.  A peace flag in a world of wrongs, plagued by insecurity and imagined limited space.  Surely they will see that I meant no harm.  I only wish to eat bland burritos at my desk in peace.  Sadly, as of today, this truce was ignored.

Look at this full ass freezer!!  My bacon box is
practically SUFFOCATING those bagel dogs!!!
Jesus Christ, how did I let this happen??!

Last Tuesday, I made the mistake of purchasing a small thin box of fake bacon from my local trader of Joes.  As if that wasn't bad enough,  I then had the unmitigated fucking GAUL to leave my box of fake bacon in the shared freezer at work for like, 76 hours.  Who the FUCK do I think I am?  Someone beyond personal penmanship requirements?  Someone that is not only too good to eat real pork products, but too good to proudly attach my name to my condescending soy protein impostors as well?  Someone that works in this office and has use of this shared refrigerator space legitimately?  Yes.  Turns out, I am ALL of those people.

Don't worry though.  I got mine.  When I opened the freezer this morning at my office intending to microwave up some strips of lies, I was promptly presented with a brightly colored threat.

That's right.  Bets are off.  Gloves are gone.

How did I handle this clear act of terrorism?  The only way a person who has in fact lived in a college dorm with six female strangers can.  I responded via passive aggressive note of my own.

Initially, that did say, "Please Don't Touch My Food," but I decided it's time to drop the act.

The first stone has been thrown, my friends.  Winter is here.  Now, the only thing we can look forward to in the coming days will be massive bloodshed.  Straight up, massive bloodshed.