I had a COVID scare yesterday morning and rushed home from the office to do a test. As I dashed out the door I grabbed my packed lunch – spag bol – from the fridge.
Well, I thought it was my lunch.
When I took it out of my bag to transfer it to the fridge at home, watery white stuff went EVERYWHERE.
Watery white stuff is not normally a feature of leftover spag bol, so I opened the plastic bag and to my horror discovered that I had taken home someone else’s lunch.
It was almost noon, so I hurriedly sent a message to my boss asking if she could put a note on the fridge to apologise and offer my spag bol as compensation.
Not long afterwards she messaged to say a nice lad called Nick had claimed the lost lunch and was happily microwaving my pasta instead.
(I must note at this point that I didn’t offer him my lunch until after I’d received a negative COVID test result. I also didn’t have a single symptom. It was more of a panic than a scare, especially since I’ve just had a booster shot.)
“He said please eat his soup though warns its spicy,” my boss said.
Her message came through at 12.49, 49 minutes after I’d eaten a back-up spag bol lunch from my home fridge. I don’t muck around when it comes to inhaling my food the minute the clock ticks over to PM.
I sent Nick a direct message apologising again for stealing his lunch. He was very kind and said: “I loved it. Fun to mix up the day. I’ll happily lunch swap any time. Love a surprise.”
He added later in our message chain that it made him “feel like I was back at home with my folks in 2002” (which the youngest reckons was a sledge, but I think he enjoyed the nostalgia).
He also cleaned and left my Tupperware on my desk. Bless him.
As for his stolen lunch, which he has urged me to taste and review, I will have it today. It’s celeriac, choko and kipfler potato soup with yogurt on top (hence the white watery leakage).
Song of the day: Barbra Streisand and Barry Gibb “Guilty”
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