Today it was hot and muggy outside, and when my co-worker returned from lunch, he was a bit sweaty. To cool himself down, he unwrapped a new sponge from under the office's kitchen sink, wet it, and put it in the freezer to "make an ice cube." After retrieving the cold sponge from the freezer and using it to cool himself down - hold it against his forehead and neck - he microwaved the sponge for 60 seconds to kill all the germs, and put it back in the kitchen on the sink.
I told him that I think this is really gross - not the germs necessarily, because I know that nuking the sponge kills the germs - but the principle of subjecting everyone in our office, unknowingly, to his old sweat-sponge. He contests that the nuked sponge is just as clean if not cleaner than the existing sponge, and rattles of a long list of other germy things (subway poles, cell phones, door knobs, etc.). Is that okay?
Thatz not okay.
If you have to microwave something to sterilize it after using it in a non-traditional way, that’s a good indication that you shouldn’t be doing whatever weird thing you’re doing with communal property.
You know what else you can put in the freezer to make an ice cube? WATER.
As you say, your coworker is technically correct that the nuked sponge is just as clean, and possibly cleaner, than it was to start with. You could also make the argument that, if you squeezed out a firm little turd right on your coworker’s desk, then disinfected the entire area with bleach an hour later, that desk would be as clean if not cleaner than it was to start with. Despite this cold, hard science, your coworker still might feel a little unsettled using his desk as, say, a sushi tray. This is essentially what he's done to your dish cleaning tool.
Yes, the sponge is physically intact. But he has destroyed its honor.
Let’s ignore the layer of grime for a second and dip below the surface of the sponge, into what, in this metaphor, is just more sponge: what you have described is a staggeringly inefficient way to cool down.
As the lunch bell dings, your coworker returns to work from slurping soup inside a sauna, dripping with sweat. He scans the office—his eyes traveling past a box fan, a stack of sweat absorbent paper towels, and an A/C vent blasting a column of frigid air from the ceiling—and hones in on the sink. He removes a sponge from the undersink cabinet, frantically rips off the plastic wrapper, and runs it under the faucet. He places the soaking wet sponge in the freezer, alongside several trays of pre-formed icecubes.
~30 minutes elapse~
Somehow still dripping with sweat—he hasn’t cooled down at all since setting foot inside the office, which is located in the fiery depths of hell—he removes the now frozen sponge from the freezer. He puts it on his forehead and his neck as his body temperature plummets down to basal levels. He re-wets the sponge, and places it in the microwave for 60 seconds to kill the bacteria.
~30 seconds pass~
He continues waiting 30 seconds.
~30 seconds pass~
Using the tips of his index finger and thumb, he flings the boiling hot sponge back into the sink. It is clean now.
This just doesn't make sense. If his body is able to sustain that much heat for that long, poor communal kitchen etiquette is the least of this man's problems; he needs to see a doctor.
To me, it sounds like cooling off was a residual effect of what your coworker was really trying to do, which is show off and spark conversation with an attention-grabbing display. People get hot every day and most of them don’t remedy the situation by making quirky sponge ice cubes. This behavior is weird enough to justify a playful (even if it’s only a one sided-ly playful) argument, but probably not so weird that you would refuse to ever speak to him again because of it. Now that he’s gotten some play out of This Interesting Thing He Did, tell him you would feel better if he just spent 40 cents on a new sponge, and kept that one for private cooldown uses.
(By the way, if he’s so cavalier about germs, why did he feel the need to unwrap a sparkling new sponge for his special project? Shit, girl. We nailed him.)
This is my personal social networking pet peeve. I spend my days surfing the interwebs and often come across funny pictures, articles, youtube videos, etc (I’m unemployed, cut me some slack?). Then I post them to my facebook page so my friends can get giggles while they’re slaving away at work. Some of my friends who want to share them use the "Share" button on facebook, so I get credit for my hard work of interwebs surfing. Others just repost the link like THEY found the hilarity. I find this quite rude. There are several repeat offenders. I’m considering calling them out in a Facebook-etiquette status update. I just want credit where credit is due! Is that okay?
Thatz not okay.
You can haz major insecurity issues.
You’re upset that people are sharing work (that you didn’t create) without crediting you (for not creating it)? I’m upset that no one has ever written in with this absurd grievance before because it’s hilarious. THIS IS THE FAKEST PROBLEM IN THE WORLD.
You’re not conducting hundreds of hours of independent primary source research here, cobbling funny pictures together on a wing and a prayer; you are finding a .jpg that someone else found and sharing it. You are doing exactly the same amount of work (ctrl + v) as the person who follows you. Congratulations: you're an artisanal content farmer.
Whom do you credit when you share a funny photo of a goat that looks like Ian McKellen? The site where you found it? The person who posted it on that site? Do you track down the owner of the original goat photo and ask his or her permission to share it on your Facebook page? Do you contact Getty Images to workout a one-off deal wherein you will pay them $200 to host a photo of Ian McKellen at the Vanity Fair White House Correspondents Dinner Afterparty Cocktail Reception (necessary for goat comparison purposes) on your Facebook page for up to one month? Do you submit a formal request to Sir Ian McKellen to use his likeness? Is it enough for you to be credited by name in subsequent shares of this photo, or have you also prepared a brief bio?
What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here? Building your personal brand on Facebook?
“Once I get enough shares, I’m gonna monetize this puppy,” you think, posting a picture of a puppy. "What is Facebook, really, if not a gallery of curios exhibiting my exquisite tastes?”
What benefits are your Facebook friends swindling you out of by sharing your shared content? No one has ever, browsing their friends’ Facebook pages, thought “The misheard lyrics section of Matt’s Facebook wall, apparently curated by his friend Kara, has been simply sublime lately. How can I track down this fantastic Kara? I would like to hire her.”
I firmly advise against posting a status update in which you angrily bemoan the fact some people don’t credit you for finding the pictures you find. If you do, I guarantee that screenshots of it will get passed around, to friends of friends, to friends of friends of friends, and on and on. Some will share it and credit the person who showed it to them. Others will simply repost. No one will care though, because caring about that is dumb.
It goes without saying that the time you spend posting clever YouTube videos to Facebook could be better devoted to something more productive, like your job hunt. BuzzFeed is hiring something called a “Rewind Intern,” a position that sounds like it would consist solely of posting LOL and OMG pics that prompt people to REMEMBA WHEN. Perhaps this would play to your strengths.
If you still feel this issue requires some kind of action on your part, you could always stop posting hilarious pictures on your Facebook Wall in silent protest. But I suspect that most people will not notice the change.
There’s lots of pictures out there.
(submitted to icanhas.cheezburger.com, by: unknown)