Revenge of the microwave

Staff Writer

Sarasota Herald-Tribune

Add to the list of Things Out to Kill Us: The office microwave.

Having labored lo these many years in the downdraft of the newsroom refrigerator, I had little fear of the office microwave oven until I read a story in the Wall Street Journal that made me wonder why the thing hasn't sprouted legs and leaped on the neck of an unsuspecting copy editor (what other kind is there?), sliming the unfortunate person with a microbe milkshake of veggie lasagna, kung pao chicken and Hamburger Helper.

If you have ever peered inside your office microwave -- and I am in no way suggesting that you do -- you will probably find something that resembles the aftermath of an experiment involving gorillas and whiskey in a paint factory, only much more fragrant. The melange of accreted goo (which, by the way, would be a good name for a rock band) occurs when people forget the Most Important Lesson of microwave cooking, namely that anything cooked long enough will eventually explode.

Seeing as the Microwave Fairy hardly ever gets around to cleaning these things, layer upon layer of previously heated lunches build up. From the roof of the thing hangs a stalactite of moo shu pork. From the floor rises a stalagmite of ham, salami and mozzarella stromboli. Marinating everything is a piquant varnish that may have once been crab rangoon or possibly chicken marsala.

All of which could explain why, when someone heats a bag of microwave popcorn, the whole newsroom reeks of the world's worst fusion of Asian/Italian/Cajun/Mexican cuisine.

According to the Wall Street Journal story, heating one's food amid the myriad splatters of ancient lunches may not -- and this is probably going to shock you -- be healthy. The scientist quoted in the story mentioned something about microbes and aflatoxins. I'm not sure exactly what aflatoxins are, but I don't plan on ordering any on my next pizza.

The reason upper management, in its infinite beneficence, provides us with office microwaves is so that employees can enjoy their aflatoxin- riddled lunches at their desks and continue working. Workplace-efficiency experts are currently studying a system whereby employees can have their nourishment dripped directly into a vein via an IV bag, thereby saving the five minutes an employee wastes detonating his leftover shrimp fettuccine in the microwave.

Until then, I suppose we will just have to live with the miasma of reheated food microbes swirling about our heads like a cloud of aflatoxin-infested gnats. (The possibility of someone actually cleaning the microwave is so ludicrously remote that I don't even think it deserves consideration here.) About the best we can hope for is that the microwave and office refrigerator do not form an unholy alliance, bringing the twin hammers of moldy cream cheese and superheated tomato sauce down upon our overworked heads.

Such an alliance would certainly impede workplace efficiency, because it's awfully hard to type when you're encased head to toe in an airtight, bio-resistant suit.

David Grimes can be reached by mail at the Sarasota Herald- Tribune, P.O. Drawer 1719, Sarasota, FL 34230; by phone at (941) 957-5209; by fax at (941) 957-5276 or by e-mail at david.grimes@heraldtribune.com.