Part IV

Back when I started work at this massive conglomerate of a job there began a strange series of events that I can only describe now as fortuitous but at the time seemed dammed annoying. It first happened on a Tuesday. The lunch that I had thrown together that morning and deposited in the refrigerator at work was not where I left it. I rummaged around, opening and closing the crisper drawer a few times, but finding nothing resembling my peanut butter and bacon sandwich. It appeared that my lunch had been stolen. So off to the vending machine I went. What dropped down from its perch on row DD was the worst excuse for a chicken pot pie I had ever come across. It brought to my palate the dullness of chalk along with the scalding hotness of McDonald coffee.

This was not going to be an isolated incident however as lunch after lunch would disappear over the next few months. As a penance for the thief I would return to row DD of the vending machine and shovel down chicken pot pie after chicken pot pie. After one especially egregious pie I wondered if I was the only victim. If there was a thief about perhaps peanut butter and bacon sandwiches weren't the only thing they liked. And my lunch was only stolen once every couple of weeks. What did this person eat the rest of the time? Asking around I found an undercurrent of hatred and empty stomachs. I was not alone. Only one person could help me apprehend this cold lunch lover. I headed to the basement of the building looking for Pedro.