Work lunch. It's always a problem for me. I never have time to prepare the great American white bread sandwich, yet I never have money to buy anything either. It's too long of a day to just starve so I usually end up bringing whatever was left over from last night, no matter how impractical - or in this case, stinky it may be.
In spite of my not liking to use the microwave, it's the only option here at work aside from eating your ravioli stone cold. Like most employers, they don't provide us with full blown ovens. We don't even have toaster ovens for that matter. I've heard they are a hazard - some nonsense about burning the place down, I don't know. I, for one, would be willing to take that chance rather than microwaving my grilled shrimp into pink rubber commas.
The microwave at work is radically different from the one I have at home. At my house, to warm up a single chicken nugget, you would have to put it in for approximately 27 minutes.... and then turn it and put it back in for another 2 hours. I told my son the rule of thumb is to read whatever the package suggests and multiply that time by 70. Some may say it's time for a new microwave, but since we rarely use the thing I feel like I should keep it to get my money's worth. I put out close to $70 for that thing at Bradlees 13 years ago. It had better last another 10 years at least.
The work microwave, in stark contrast to my home microwave, seems to be super-powered. In spite of it's reputation for being a safe and work friendly means of warming things, it still poses its own risks and hazards. This thing here is so strong, you could put in a Thanksgiving turkey and a minute and thirty seconds later, that sucker is done. (Imagine that, dinner in a buck thirty! Maybe I should consider getting a new one at home!) Popcorn routinely bursts into flames around here leaving behind the smell of charred butter for hours. One poor soul tried to warm up a WeightWatchers cookie of all things, and it set off the alarm system. The entire building had to be evacuated. When we came back in, they were gracious enough to take the remains of the cookie out and demand to know who made it. Poor lady just wanted a warm snack without being publicly humiliated. Guess that just wasn't her day. So yea, you're taking your life into your hands just trying to warm up some grub around here. And if the threat of fire wasn't enough, there's something even worse: the stinker uppers.
Working in a culturally diverse environment, lunch time affords us all the glory of smelling everyone's ethnic cuisines. Problem is, even if it might have smelled good when they made it, it usually stinks up the joint when it's warmed up for lunch here. The stinks vary from potent to unpleasant to downright offensive. Since we are fabulous cooks in my house, I'm certain I have never perpetrated this assault on the senses the way others routinely do. Until today, that is.
Today I warmed up my grilled shrimp skewers left over from last night. I knew the risks of microwaving shrimp, and I prepared myself. I knew I would be in for a lot of chewing and potentially even having to chase down a bouncing shrimp in the likely event I lose control of the plate while walking. But this time I was completely unprepared for the complication at hand. It was the smell. As it turns out, and believe me this is certainly news to me too, grilled shrimp when microwaved can take on an aroma that is not unlike that of marijuana. Now I'm not saying all shrimp when microwaved will smell like an Occupy rally but something about how my shrimp was seasoned or something definitely seemed inspired by the infamous herb.
Working in a very professional and corporate environment, its really quite embarrassing to have hints of the ganga wafting out of your cube. Bad enough I was hardly keeping my eyes open from a poor night's sleep last night. If anyone walked by they would have seen me reclined in my chair with my eyes half closed, munching on shrimp at two in the afternoon and reeking of pot. Who would have thought trying to have a nice low carb, high protien lunch could potentially paint me as the company stoner?
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