On Sunday mornings I love to read the comics. After cruising through the rest of the paper and separating out the circulars with good deals from the ones I am totally not interested in, but before I get to clipping coupons, I read the funnies.
A few weeks back there was a strip that had two boys at the mall forced to overhear someone’s cell phone conversation. The boys agreed that the mall should have a space where one can go for some privacy. Maybe a little room, with a door, and then the one suggested that this small room, with a door could also have a book that lists everyone’s number and a spare phone in case your cell phone dies.
Hahahahahahaha. Get it? They were describing a telephone booth. The very thing cell phones made obsolete? Oh (imagine me wiping tears from my eyes) man, I love the funnies.
Anyway, our company has recently moved away from plastic utensils to cups and cutlery made from corn in an effort to reduce our carbon footprint. The fact that they are slowly driving everyone insane is just an ancillary benefit.
You see, this corncob concoction was powerless against my pretty soft and spreadable cream cheese, it even folded under the slight pressure it took to spread my very soft peanut butter. Heck, it wasn’t even capable of moving my sugar-free preserves around an English muffin. You can see how this could lead to some frustration, first thing in the morning, before one’s coffee has had enough time to kick-in.
Now I had recently read, in a book about being a better employee that someone anonymously left on my desk chair, that instead of reporting problems, I should find solutions. So I sat there, spreading my cream cheese with my finger and wondered if there was a way to make everyone happy.
Biodegradable utensils did not make me happy because I found them to be as useless as spell check when the language is set to German. However, billions of plastic knifes taking up space in a landfill makes Al Gore sad. So, what if they weren’t sitting in a landfill? What if we bought super sturdy, extra durable plastic knifes that we could use again and again. Maybe ones made from the same sort of plastic that my water bottle is made out of.
Then I remembered, according to recent reports my Nalgene bottle is trying to kill me. So maybe instead of a durable plastic, we could find some other sturdy, reusable, washable material, like stainless steal. Eureka! We could mass produce knifes from. . . and then I laughed (out loud of course).
So that night I got home and slipped a butter knife from my utensil drawer into my pocketbook. I just hope our office’s zero tolerance weapon policy doesn’t stand in the way of using it on my bagel.