Stalking

I bought salad ingredients Monday.

However, one of my two roommates had filled up the upper crisper in our shared side-by-side fridge-freezer that I had been using (but recently emptied), so I had to put my salad, carrots, and cucumber down to the bottom, smaller, crisper. But the bag of celery just wouldn't fit.

Hmm.

I didn't want to lay it against the Commander's case of beer. Seemed rude and invasive. So I moved the Colonel's juice on the top shelf to the side and stuck the celery all the way in the back, sitting on its end.

When I got back from class the next day, the celery was sitting on the kitchen table.

You tend to see fruit, in a bowl, adjusted just so, on a kitchen table. Perhaps a vase full of flowers. But not cold celery in a plastic bag, looking sad and lost, like a Sunday newspaper tossed on the wrong curb.

I looked up on the top shelf again, and nothing had changed. Just a lack of celery. Soon after, the Commander walked in, and I asked if I could place my celery gingerly on his beer, as I seemed to have offended the Colonel's sensibilities by invading his personal juice space. The Commander was fine with it. Even offered me a beer. Go Navy.

So imagine my surprise this afternoon after the softball game to find no celery in the fridge.
I looked on the kitchen table to see if it had somehow escaped again. No. But further on...yep... there it was... in the garbage.

?

Either I am missing something or I have the world's most offensive vegetables on the planet.

The celery is back on the beer.
I'm sure that's why it comes in a bag. For such roommate assholiant emergencies.