I’m not generally considered a clumsy fellow. In fact although I’ve dropped much of it recently, you’ve not likely seen anyone maneuver 400 lbs as adroitly as me. But I still knocked the girl’s lunch onto the floor.
And it couldn’t have just been a banana or something else with a natural covering. Or something simple and cheap like a turkey sandwich.
It was a fine piece of perfectly cooked steak that was leftover from a special birthday dinner the night before. The kind of leftover that you think about all through the morning and look forward to warming up and eating.
The take-home box pictured was positioned next to my lunch bag, and as I went to take mine out, the restaurant box tumbled onto the floor. In slow motion.
Now thanks to my cat-like reflexes, the steak only touched the floor for like 2 seconds. I caught it on it’s first bounce, and quickly put it back into the container.
Then came the dilemma. Do I seek out the steak owner and explain to them what happened or just put it back with no one being the wiser? I mean the “5-second rule” could clearly be invoked here.
I’m not one to worry about germs and such. I wash my hands of course, but I don’t spend the day moving from one Purell bottle to the next like some. I eat stuff off of my floor all the time, and it’s not near as clean as the floor at work.
But with The Scout Law running through my mind, I authored a note and stuck it on the box. Turns out it was Nicci’s. She seemed a little suspicious of my story, but told me that we were still friends. She also told me later that the steak was delicious, and tasted of seasoning and not dirt.
Then yesterday it happened again. This time it was someone’s mashed potatoes in a Tupperware container, covered sloppily with foil.
I threw them in the trash and walked away.