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Published November 25, 2008

You would think that working in a police station, your lunch would be safe from theft.  Negative ghost rider.  Since we aren't given a lunch break and can't leave to pick up food, we are forced to bring our own lunch and/or dinner.  The fridge is a community science fair project of old fungus and mold from the 70's, but we have no choice but to put it in there.  All of us in dispatch began to notice we had a refridgerator ninja on our hands.  Literally in the four hour span between finding a spot to wedge our food into and the time we were ready to eat, it would disappear.  It would start out as a pudding pack or banana here and there and graduated to entire sandwhiches.  Once, I had a Sprite in there.  After fielding a bunch of calls while eating some popcorn, I was so thirsty I thought I had been walking the Nevada desert for days.  So of course, I'm looking forward to an incredibly refreshing drink of my Sprite.  All the way enroute to the fridge, I'm praying the ninja didn't strike.  I open the door, and it's still there - sparkling like a diamond in the window at Tiffany's.  I crack it open and take a long drag...IT'S WATER!  Someone had actually opened it, drank it, and replaced it with H20.  And not the high quality kind either.  Tap water.  Our tap water is disgusting.  Anyhoo, I couldn't decide which was nastier.  The taste of the water, or the idea I had just drank after the mystery thief.

By this time, we had an idea which officer was stealing our food and now drinks.  When we called him on it, he claimed it was community property since it was in the refridgerator in the kitchen.  We begged the Captain for a new refridgerator in our dispatch center to no avail.  So, I decided to get even.  I had big dreams of ex-lax brownies, but that would technically be assault so I ditched that idea.  Instead, I made him an extra special sandwhich.  You see, Alpo has this dogfood called "Tender Slices".  I took a can of the beef flavor, rinsed off the slices and mixed them all up with barbeque sauce.  Then, I put them on a hamburger bun, took it to work, and put it in the fridge.  Since dog food wouldn't cause the projectile poops or any other illness, this is a safe bet.  As far as anybody else knows, I'm poor and can't afford meat.  I am a county employee after all, so this is entirely plausible.  Anyway, later that day, our officer thief made a point of coming into the dispatch center while eating what was left of the sandwhich.  I let him polish off the last bite and asked him, "did you just eat my barbeque sandwhich?".  He laughed, licked his fingers and again reminded me it was community property.  I then told him I was glad he liked it, it was an Alpo sandwhich.  After several minutes of not believing me and all the other dispatchers laughing at him, he informed me that the sad thing was, it was good.  We got our new refridgerator on Saturday.

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