An Ode to Tablecloths

Warm and fuzzy: the feeling after ordering a dozen new tablecloths for “your department only.”

What is naivete? You. You when you thought your glorious new tablecloths would be sacred between your department only.

But where are the good tablecloths? A panic.

Tablecloth, thy fickle friend. Why do you elude me?

But seriously tho, where are the good tablecloths?

“Hey guuurrrllll, we got a million 1st graders coming in about 10 mins. Ima just grab some of your tablecloths real quick, it’s no big deal.”

Two Months Later, You:

Weeping. At your desk. In the middle of the day. “Where? Where? Where are the good tablecloths?”

Perhaps a different tactic: If you were a tablecloth, where would you be hiding?

Tablecloths found. Miraculous return.

But, neatly folded and waiting on your desk for your arrival one unassuming Tuesday afternoon?

No of course not. Thrown about your cubicle, like a haphazard harem clumsily decorated.

Then you see it.

The stain.

The deep stain.

The deep, gummy stain of which there is no cure.

The deep, gummy stain of what? Spilled wine? No. Spilled, what?

What on this Earth….?

New consideration: which are the good table cloths now?

A new hiding place. But where?

The locked, by limited-access key not badge, Education Dept. store room.

No, too easy.

The other upper cabinet in my cubicle. Yes, that’s the place.

Aha! Melted marshmallow.


Many, many months later:

Where are the good tablecloths?


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