now, don't you want to know why there was rotten potato salad in my purse?

aren't you a bit curious?
it all started at the coffee house down the street, where you can get a large panini for $9.49.
the panini is nice. the panini is fine. the panini can feed two hungry people or one extreeeemely hungry person.
[i can eat a whole one myself. i'm a rhinosaurus.]

but the point is not that.

the point is that the $9.49 panini comes with a puzzling little container of what would appear to be potato salad. i've never met someone who likes the obnoxious little salad, and it usually gets tossed.

good graish, wot a waste.

you and i both know that food has two uses: "eating" and "other".
[["other" includes but is not limited to: food fights, crafts [maccaroni necklaces and such], and, my personal favorite, pranking.]]
this food was not eat-worthy, so aimee and i decided to figure out the "other" use. we further decided that this particular food would be especially good--and only, really, good--for pranking.

a prank involves three components: a victim, a plan, and a flawless carrying-out.
we got the first two, and about a sliver of the third.

the anatomy of Project Potato Dalas

the victim: Dallas [because his name is pretty much salad backwards and also his office is the most accessible from my workspace.]

the plan: every friday, we will split a large panini and obtain one container of "potato salad". shortly after one o'clock [taking careful note of the time] suzy will slip into dallas' office and hide the container somewhere out of easy eye-sight. we will then wait outside and take note of how long it takes dallas to find said potato salad. we will keep a log book of his times, personal bests, personal worsts, how stinky his office becomes, etc.

the flawless carrying-out: i'll shoot straight with you: we did it once. it took him roughly an hour and twenty minutes to find the potato salad behind his desk. we returned to the coffee house the following friday, at which time i stuffed the potato salad into my purse, and promptly forgot about it. until saturday. not like saturday next saturday saturday. saturday a month later saturday.

the backlash: that's right. when you don't pull off the third part of your prank well, there will inevitably be a fourth part. and that part is this part--the backlash. the part where i open my purse a month later and stick my hand in month-old rotten potato salad.

anyways. that's all. kids: think twice before playing food-related pranks. think three times. and don't transport the ammo in a non-sealable container.