My boss just asked my coworker if she could throw away the old chips and cheese dip that had been left sitting out in our kitchen all day. When my coworker explained that they’d been left out for sharing and that she no longer had an interest in them, my boss announced that she was going to trash them because the cheese looked congealed. She was on her way past my office towards the kitchen when she stopped abruptly, exclaimed, “Oh, man, first I’d better ask The Stomach,” and then popped into my doorway.

My boss called me The Stomach. The Stomach.

I declined. Not because I have standards, though, but because I had already eaten half of a tub of buttercream frosting after lunch.

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