In our vast call center complex there is a combination reception area for new customers and executive lounge. In this sanctum of plush Burgundy carpet and tasteful art prints is a small refrigerator and a cherry table that overflow with a cornucopia of snacks and beverages.
The treats are not there all the time, it is refilled from time to time when clients are coming in or for board meetings. Of course, this area is off limits to the rest of us. I have not pilfered myself, but I hear tales of croissants filled with cream cheese and fruit and exotic snapple flavors and Doritos.
Recently, a cry of rage and uproar came from the management and accounting department. Someone had been eating the forbidden fruits! If their pitchforks had not been out getting sharpened, they would have gotten some torches and stormed the call floor where we work.
Instead of getting the polygraph out, an all caps memo appeared taped up around the center that read:
ATTENTION ALL EMPLOYEES:
THE FOOD AND BEVERAGES IN THE EXECUTIVE LOUNGE ARE NOT FOR EVERYONE. ANYONE CAUGHT EATING THIS FOOD WILL BE DEALT WITH BY MANAGEMENT.
We are all shaking in our boots, yet secretly hoping this culinary Robin Hood will hook us up with some croissants...
Purgatory: A place of suffering and torment with an unknown duration. In Roman Catholic Theology-the place where the dead are purified from their sins.
By Rage Against The Machine