Well, it’s better than working.
Even better when they do it to your well seasoned cast iron skillet. Death wishes.
At the end of the hall on my floor is the office where people go for court mandated anger management classes in our fair city. Needless to say, their attitude isn’t that great to begin with and we share a bathroom with them. Their resentment at life in general seems to be reflected by leaving cigarette butts on the floor, paper towels in the sink, and various bodily excreta all over the bathroom.
I go downstairs to use the bathroom.
Another place for Terry Tate, Office Linebacker.
I don’t mind this when applied to dishes that have been there for a couple of days, but where I work, we only get 30 mins. for lunch/break. That is nowhere near enough time to have a nice relaxed meal, get some reading done, and do dishes. I always leave my dishes until the end of my shift, when i’m not on the clock and can rinse them out before I take them home. I’ve walked in a couple times on the (very rare) day when someone is ACTUALLY cleaning the breakroom, and had to just about physically restrain people from throwing away my dishes which have been in the sink for three hours and which I am coming to retrieve.
My biggest breakroom gripe is food stealing - I could care less if someone takes a couple of chips out of my bag or something like that, but I have had an entire loaf of delicious cheddar bread disappear - before I even got to take my lunch. The worst one, though, was when I had a box of poptarts in the breakroom (clearly labelled as mine, etc.). Someone *opened one of the foil packets, broke one of the poptarts in half, and ate it * - leaving me with one and a half stale poptarts in an open package. I ask you, what sane mind could do such a thing?
It’s threads like this that make me happy I work at home and live alone. When I find a bunch of dirty dishes in the sink, I know exactly how they got there and who’s to blame.
Now, where can I get me some of them house elves?