Story 123: Office Supply Thief

            Darn it, I’m out of staples again.  How am I supposed to keep the reams of my very important personal papers together if the company doesn’t chip in for the cause?  Speaking of reams, I need another one of those, too – at least there’ll be a delivery of paper this afternoon, especially since I’m the one who placed the order.

            I can’t believe the company I work for makes so much money yet is so cheap that it can’t pay me a decent home office supply wage.  I figure at the very least it owes me some paper clips.  And correction tape.  And regular tape.  And all the binder clips.

            They raised the cafeteria prices again?!  What for, the food’s still gross.  I think they want me to starve when I stay overtime even though I don’t have to.  This calls for some extra spoons and ketchup packets for the old apartment kitchen, I think.

            Ah, that lady in Cubicle #38 left that really good brand of scissors on her desk, unattended, yet again.  When will she ever learn?  Hopefully never.

            Another budget meeting.  Did they leave out those laser gadgets again for us to use “just for the meeting”?  Yes they did!  My nieces love these things.  I tell them that they’re gifts from vendors wanting our business, so the devices won’t be infected with any potential feelings of guilt.  Not that I ever have any of those, but they’re sensitive little girls.

            Shift change: time for pen rounds.  Some desks have really nice ones – you know, the ones that it seems a shame to throw them away after they run out of ink `cause they’re so elegant or pretty, but really, what is a pen without ink?  Worse than useless.  Those are the ones that I crave, and Cubicle #57 has them aplenty.  This time, though, there’s a note on the pen holder: “Dear Pen Stealer: Would you like more variety?  Different colors?  Please, let me know how I can brighten your day.”  Well, that was thoughtful; I take the biggest pen and write back in disguised script: “Yes, please – some fluorescent greens would be great.  Thanks a bunch!! ♥ ♥”  People like it when you take a moment to show sincere gratitude.

            Let’s see, end of the work day, my hand truck is nearly full – I’d say I got a lot accomplished today.  I wheel away my new possessions, dumping my computer keyboard on top of the pile (the one I have at home has a stuck letter “E,” so forget typing anything ever again on that), and whistle all the way to the elevators.  As Security meets me there and escorts me to H.R., I lovingly slide the special pen up my sleeve for safekeeping.  The rest of my stash can be returned to their rightful owners or thrown out or whatever, but only I can possess that pen.  The company owes me that much.