Mr. Microwave-Salmon — 1:13 PM, Floor Three

Lyrics

[Intro]

[Verse 1]
Oh, Tupperware, you faithful blue-lidded box,
carried from the fridge on Floor Three at 1:13 PM,
holding that pink slab of salmon from Costco, bought last Tuesday.
You sit in the break room, next to the Keurig pods scattered like forgotten promises.

[Chorus]
You pop open, release the wave,
that oily fog rolling out at 1:15,
seventeen desks away, Karen in accounting wrinkles her nose first,
then Dave from sales, mid-call with the client in Omaha.
The quiet hum starts, the disregard you didn't mean,
but there it is, filling the vents.

[Verse 2]
Tupperware, you were microwaved for three minutes,
on high, while Mr. Salmon stands there scrolling his phone,
ignoring the sign taped above, "No Fish Please, Courtesy of All."
The smell hits the conference room at 1:17,
where the team meeting drags, and now it's salmon-seasoned air.

[Bridge]

Imagine the HR email, drafted by Lisa at 1:20,
subject line: "Reminder: Office Etiquette and Odors,"
but deleted at 1:22, because who complains about lunch?
Yet the mourning spreads, silent as the ping of the timer.

[Verse 3]
Tupperware, emptied by 1:25, rinsed half-heartedly in the sink,
left to dry next to the sponge that's seen better days.
The afternoon wears your scent like a bad cologne,
productivity dipping, eyes watering just a bit.

[Outro]

Tupperware, you innocent vessel,
carrying the vice we all sniff but never name.
Fade out at 1:45, until tomorrow's repeat.