I was frustrated, but I\u2019m not the kind of man to start a witch hunt. Instead, I found a solution of my own. I bought a small refrigerator, just big enough for my lunch and a couple of drinks. I set it up discreetly in a corner near my workstation, plugged it into an outlet that wasn\u2019t being used, and carried on. That way, I wouldn\u2019t have to worry about anyone stealing Marie\u2019s meals.<\/p>\n
It worked perfectly for a while. I felt relieved knowing my food was safe. No more missing lunches, no more going hungry during a twelve-hour shift. I thought I\u2019d found a harmless compromise.<\/p>\n
Then came the day I was called into the manager\u2019s office.<\/p>\n
When I got the message to report upstairs, I actually felt a spark of excitement. Call it foolish optimism, but after all those years without a raise, I thought maybe\u2014just maybe\u2014they\u2019d finally decided to acknowledge my dedication. I pictured a small bonus, maybe a word of thanks. I straightened my shirt, wiped the grease from my hands, and walked into that office with my head held high.<\/p>\n
The manager didn\u2019t even ask me to sit down. He just stood there, arms crossed, expression stiff.<\/p>\n
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