emergency_fork_stash.jpg

Hey guys, I need to address the giant white elephant in the room—or rather, in the Stranger offices, that’s apparently been hanging around for a while, causing chaos for those of us who eat food: the case of the missing forks.

Upstairs in the kitchen, in the drawer where we keep flatware, there is an empty space in the flatware tray where the forks should be. (I mean, they’re all empty right now, but the forks slot is ALWAYS empty.) Some of us have tried bringing more forks in to curb the problem (thrift store forks, natch), only to see these forks disappear along with the rest. Others of us, in defense, have started storing an emergency fork in our desks so as to have something to eat with when we’ve got food that really doesn’t work with a spoon, or fingers (or chopsticks—Lester was eating SPAGHETTI with chopsticks yesterday! I get it, noodles can be eaten with chopsticks—but it just looked so pathetic and made me feel real sad inside.)

Apparently, MIA forks have been an ongoing problem here at the offices, some say for at least a decade, although maybe that’s rhetoric. Regardless of when it started, it has definitely been an issue since I started here (January, 2017), and all those aforementioned forks I brought in to solve the problem have been swallowed up by that big white elephant… or by employees, like me, who are keeping them for future use because of the fork crisis. Or maybe it’s unintentional (like, you have food remains on your desk from the past month, maybe a fork or a few stuck in there somewhere, growing mold—Jesus, man, clean that shit UP.). Or maybe you took a fork home by accident?

The reason is inconsequential. I don’t care why you have the fork(s). I just want them back in the kitchen. Thus, my campaign to Bring Back the Forks. You can do it quietly in the evening, when everyone else is gone, or early in the morning, when no one is here, if you care about getting “caught,” or you can do it right now, if you don’t. Just put your fork in the sink. You don’t even have to wash it (sorry Erica). No one will yell at you. I promise.