Fridge requests

Our office fridge is filled to the brim with wants and requests, as a pretty silly method to pass the time.

“Please drop me a text if you have any flat-sharing offers” T. asks.

“Someone mail me the goddamn comissions before the end of the week you slags.” B. scribbles.

“I need a better job…” L. muses.

“I need someone to share a ride with to the _____ Showcase on Friday, if it’s not much trouble.”. D. politely

announces in a corner with schoolgirl calligraphy, the way she always does.

“Who the fuck stole my mustard again?” J. obnoxiously inkstamps.

At the end of my lunch break, a post-it chain is what I stick on top of all the others’ :” I need a demented femme fatale with kitchen talent, bed fever, character, charm, brutal honesty, catlike allure, a sense of humor, appreciation for my being a Man on a Mission and a penchant for tranquilizing my paroxistic self-destructive behaviour.

but right now i’m pretty sure i can’t find that in this place, so i’m just grateful i have a roof above my head. Thanks!”