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honor box
2005-01-27 - 12:40 a.m.


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I put too much money in the honor box.


I'm starting a new thing, eating in the campus cafeteria at corporate.  I eat after the cafeteria closes, and its cavernous and empty.  Scattered trays litter the tables here and there.  The lights are usually off, and the only illumination is ambient light reflected off of the snow in the courtyard. 


They offer premade salads, fruitplates, sandwiches, chips, desserts and stuff.  Nothing hot or really too substantial, but generally you can find a meal that's halfway decent and not so bad for you.


And there's no one there to take your money.  They leave a price list, an adding machine, a dish of change and a locked box. 


The honor box. 


I had a ten spot and three ones.  My meal came to 4.85.


I should be more pragmatic.  Or maybe more of an asshole.  Or something.


Because, besides, the money only goes to an uncaring bloated corporation, anyway.  My largess is misguided at best and more likely stupid in any form.  I could rob the place blind, and, most likely, no one would give a fuck.  But I dont steal.  I'm not much of a thief.


Its just the name of it, the honor box.  A box of honor.  I just can't shake it, y'know?  Its like some physical manifestation of the metaphysical, and I adore it on many levels, to say nothing of the keen irony of a box of honor in the heart of a ruthless corporation.  Its like a quantification of these things we talk about and live by, but never can see.  And there it is, right in front of me.  So how much is my honor worth? 


Apparently its worth about five bucks.  Maybe more.


And then I felt stupid, paying twice as much for my meal as I would otherwise.  So I grabbed an extra bag of chips.   Motherfuckers OWE me.  I saw a woman fretting over a package of cookies.


"Grab another one," I said, "I put too much money in the honor box."


She laughed, smiled at me and nodded.  Then only grabbed the one package and paid for it, walking out of the cafeteria.  I dont think she understood what I was trying to communicate to her.  I dont think she understood me.  I don't think they understand me, period, there, but that's a whole 'nother story.


So I'm good as far as the box of honor, the honor box is concerned.


I think that fucker is buying me lunch tomorrow.  Watch I get caught doing it, even though, technically, my honor will be sound, and I will have done nothing wrong.


Noise and bad confusion will erupt from the cafeteria as some under-socialized engineer points and me and screams while I try to walk out the door.


"HEY, ITS THE ASSHOLE WHO RIPPED OFF THE HONOR BOX!"


No, no, I swear, it was not me!  I put in too much money yesterday!  We're square!


I swear it!


"GET HIM!"


Then what?  I don't know.  Hold them off like a pack of baying hounds as long as I can, because in the cafeteria, the doors lock unless you badge in...and out. Desperation.  Violence.  Sadness.


Between you and me, though, I could kick a lot of engineer ass in the finally tally.  Until they swarmed me like a pack of rats and drown out my screams with the gnashing sound of gnawing rat-like engineer teeth.  Horrible.


Fuckin' honor box.  I shoulda' stole the goddam thing.


 


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