I think when you are in your twenties, it is everyone’s tendency to try and steal whatever they can from their place of employment. Now I don’t mean bottles of alcohol or a computer or anything like that. That type of theft is usually reserved for a select few who will go on to become bigger and better things. Like drug dealers or car hijackers. I’m talking about normal people like you and me – and that’s assuming you’re normal, and making somewhat of a stretch by calling myself normal. Good people. People who come to work on time – or at least feel bad when they’re late – and worry about what their boss thinks of them (despite any self-loathing this may bring about). I don’t know why we feel the need to steal – or “take I should say – things from work. Perhaps it’s because we are still at the stage in life where we have to buy cereal from Rite Aid instead of the grocery store because it’s 2 dollars cheaper. The stage where Ramen noodles are not just a faux food group but a frequent meal, and you can’t remember the last time you filled your gas tank up all the way. Give these circumstances, dipping into the closet full of toilet paper at work doesn’t seem like such a bad idea. Or maybe it’s our teeny tiny way of acting out the aggression we feel from working at a job that we hate. Whatever the reason, we all do it. Well, I don’t know about all, but I certainly do.
At one of my first jobs, it was tampons. The dispenser was out (as they always seem to be, begging the question why have them at all?) and it occurred to me that I had just stocked the supplies closet with them, so I took a few for my own personal emergency supply. At an office job, I used the printer and copier to prepare theatre company meetings with my friends. (These meetings usually consisted of us sitting around wondering what our mission statement would be. Needless to say, we never produced anything.) And at my current job, it’s matches and printing paper. I don’t really take the printing paper. I salvage old menus from being wasted to the trash and use them for printing paper at home. So really I’m providing a recycling service. That benefits myself. And I don’t take the matches to facilitate a smoking habit. I quit that a year and a half ago. I have recently taken a liking to candles, and I have yet to buy a lighter.
I recognize these things don’t make a drastic difference in my quality of living, which leads me to conclude that the reasoning behind this taking is, in fact, a passive aggressive reaction to disliking my job. I can prove this with my latest fancy: bottled water. I used to drink the tap water while other waiters would take bottles of cold, flat water from the fridge. I myself prefer sparkling water, but no way was I going to open a bottle all for myself. I felt too guilty to do that; I mean matches is one thing, but bottled water? Until one day, when the loathsome owner dropped in for one of his random visits, drunk and high as usual. In my experience working in restaurants, I have learned that with owners like this, I should only speak when spoken to. And on this particular night, he had not spoken to me, but this did not prevent him from purposefully grazing my rear end as he passed by. I immediately wanted to cry. I was so angry that he’d done it, but even angrier that I hadn’t said anything. Later, when I found myself thirsty, I purposefully reached into the fridge, took out a large sparkling water and poured myself a glass.
I have been drinking the bottled water since. Please note, I am fully aware of how pathetic this is, but I think it can explain why we all steal from work. It gives us a sense of entitlement, that, for some reason we can’t seem to get otherwise. At least for now.
