They Don’t Know What I Put in Their Food

I’ve worked as a lunch lady/cafeteria worker for close to a year now and it’s the best job I’ve ever had.

Originally when I applied for it, I was beyond disappointed that my endless job searching had concluded with not only the high school I despised going to, but easily the worst position in it. I would’ve taken the school janitor if they had offered but I didn’t have any options. I was broke, had to look for new employment since the diner I previously worked at had multiple health code violations. And since I was a high school dropout and never went to college, finding a well-paying job has proved difficult. Normally a school cafeteria position requires a high school diploma but thankfully due to my experience in the food service industry (and the fact no one else applied) I got the position the next day.

To say it was a rough start would be an understatement. The pay was insulting but I couldn’t exactly argue. And the constant bitching and complaining from the kids not liking what I poured blood sweat and tears into made an already miserable workplace unbearable. And they never tried to hide their disdain for my food. Purposefully throwing away leftovers in the garbage bin closest to me knowing that I’d see it. Poking and prodding the dish like dissecting a frog in science class. Don’t even get me started on the kids who ask for a vegetarian alternative. I could’ve just given them the fake hamburger meat that’s 90% plastic and whale shit, but I chose to make them actual good meals. Like chicken quesadillas or some of my famous family chili. But it meant nothing. I’ve never received so much as a single thank you.

And experiencing all this in the school that made my life hell was salt on the wound. Walking through these halls all these years later five days a week and interacting with the offspring of the parents I had to deal with in my years here is a feeling of anger I can’t put into words. I searched for new jobs every day, set up meetings and everything but I’d always end up in the same spot. I got some enjoyment though. The rare school fight here and there would give me solid entertainment, kids caught with weed or other drugs getting expelled would be a highlight of any day, and seeing the athletic students get all depressed when the gymnasium was closed for construction gave me pure joy. But besides the occasional smoke break and the fact that I work by myself, this was the lowest I’d ever been. I believed this endless cycle of disappointment would never end. Until one great day.

My alarm didn’t go off, so I had to rush into work. Unfortunately, it was Friday. Chili day. I usually come in a little early because it takes a long time to make. And I didn’t have any alternative meals to make since it was the last day before the weekend. I began preparing the chili and side dishes like corndogs and fries as quickly as possible. Dicing the tomatoes and onions putting it all in the pot when I suddenly realized I was bleeding. I must’ve cut myself while dicing the onions and somehow not notice. Most of the blood was contained in the disposable glove but a considerable amount of it had already made it onto the onions and into the chili. But I didn’t have any time. I cleaned my wound, put on a Band-Aid, and replaced my gloves praying that I could finish the chili in time and that my one little mistake wouldn’t be noticed.

I finished not a moment too soon and nervously started serving it. I wasn’t concerned in someone visually noticing anything as I mixed it well and the chili normally has a reddish hue to it. But I never got to taste test it in my rushed preparation. ”Could one of them actually tell what was in it by the taste?” I kept asking myself. That hour felt like an eternity as I watched every person who got the chili take a bite.

And yet surprisingly… nothing. Not a single unusual reaction from any student.

My fear began to subside. I was safe. My job was secure. And no one knows what happened. But then a new thought started popping in my mind.

”What else can I put in?”

The excitement and intrigue that question created took over my mind that entire weekend. And for the first time in my life, I was excited to go to school.

While I was walking to my car I stepped on an ant. Giddily scraping it off my shoe and into a napkin, I put it in one of the chicken quesadillas. I served it to a student and watching as he took bite after bite was better than watching any movie in the cinema. And yet that same question kept nagging at me.

”What else can I put in?”

Over the coming weeks I started introducing more and more ”secret ingredients” into the meals. Getting bigger and bolder every time. And I was smart about it too, only putting in things that would match the food. Putting a rat’s tail in mac and cheese would be pretty obvious. I’ve introduced so much into their diet, but I definitely have some personal favorites. Like some rust from an old metal door in the chicken curry, diced centipede among many other insects I could find in the tacos, cigarette ashes in the clam chowder, and any recipe that requires a cup of water I just take from the toilet. Only small amounts though, small enough not to be noticed and not enough to make most of them sick. I’ve noticed a couple have gotten sick, probably the chunks of rat droppings I put in the burgers, but no suspicion towards me or the school. I didn’t think this could get any more enjoyable. Until I stumbled upon the greatest ingredient I would ever find.

On a Friday night I woke up around 3:00am to my neighbor’s dog rex barking. I’ve complained many times as it always decides to howl late at night or in the earliest of the morning. But it didn’t matter to me as going to work early is exactly what I want. That way I could walk around and grab anything to use without being noticed. No one else shows up until 6:30ish so I have plenty of time by myself. Especially today of all days. Chili day. Chili day is my favorite because chili is the easiest dish to add to. With all the different ingredients I could put a whole fish head in, and no one would notice. I walked around the school for around forty minutes looking for anything to put into the chili. Some bugs, a stray gym sock, a floater in the bathroom. But I found nothing. Frustrated, I decided to have a smoke. The gymnasium has been under construction for the past month, but I decided to go through it as it’s a quick short cut to the parking lot from where I’m at. I started walking through when I was hit with an atrocious smell. Maybe an animal died somewhere, or a student forgot some food and left it out to expire. Either way, I knew what I wanted to do with it. Using the stench as a guide I walked around the gymnasium when I started closing in on a bunch of rolled up mats by the bleachers. They were rolled up and standing vertically looking like a city skyline in the distance. As I got close to one the thought of a dead animal possibly getting stuck inside made me ecstatic. It was pretty heavy, so I decided to just push it over to reveal whatever was inside. After a couple good pushes, it fell over, and I saw a large head of hair poking out.

“Did a fucking dog get stuck in here?” I thought

I started pulling on it to reveal more and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness the clothes and body became clearer. It was a student. He must’ve gotten himself stuck on accident or some sort of fucked up senior prank. And because of the construction and probably not being able to make enough noise he was never found. Either way, I’m glad I chose to take the short cut.

I quickly ran to my car to grab my emergency blanket from my trunk, my box of air fresheners, and my spare sweater to use as a mask. Pulling him out of the mat, surprised by how heavy he was, I rolled him up into the blanket and carried him to the kitchen. I struggled to find a good place for him, the freezer was big, but someone could just stroll in and I didn’t have enough time to make him fit into one of the food bins. Thankfully the plastic food bin I used for extra food storage was nearly empty, so I took the remaining food out, put the corpse inside with all 7 of my air fresheners and started preparing the chili. I’ve never been more excited to create something in my life. Thinking of which pieces of him to use first filled my mind with endless possibilities, and I could definitely use him for weeks on end. There will be plenty of him to go around and I couldn’t wait.

But then the principle came in, saying he was ”interested” in how I prepare food. Offering to help as he wanted to see the whole process. So, with him breathing down my neck I just prepared the chili normally. It was too risky to put anything else in so I just forced a smile on my face and had him dice the vegetables and put the barrel that I said was filled with extra food back into the storage room. For the first time in weeks, I hated making food. Watching the students eat the untainted food while I knew what I could’ve added put me right back into the first day of me working here. But I knew next week would be special.

Over the weekend I did research in preparing cow meats and other animals close enough to a human. Then did some minor research into the inner workings of an autopsy. Risky searches that wouldn’t look great in court but I didn’t care, I was too excited. And while I was doing research, I actually saw the news report of the missing kid on the TV. I thought it was strange that they would report it now when he’s been missing for a lot longer but I’m just glad I found him first.

For Monday we had burgers and fries. Woke up at 3:00am welcoming rexes barking. Driving to work thinking of which parts to newly introduce to their pallets. I started by defrosting all the beef, I would simply take one of his limbs or half of one and mix them into the meat and turn them into patties. Depending on the level of decomp I would put whatever amount would stay unnoticeable. I went back to the storage room to retrieve my secret ingredient. But when I opened it up, surprisingly it wasn’t the stench that caught my attention first. His eyes and mouth were wide open, with scratch marks all around the bottom of the lid. I guess my previous assumption was wrong, and Id kept him here alive over the weekend. He wasn’t missing as long as I thought and the smell I encountered originally that led me too him must’ve just been his defecation. How he didn’t wake up or how I didn’t notice he was still alive is beyond me. But lunch is in an hour so back to the previous plan. It was difficult to move him because of the rigor mortis (learned about that in my research) but I just took his right arm and removed all the meat and discarded the bones. Mashing them little by little into to the beef and formed them into patties. The smell while cooking them on the grill was surprisingly good, almost made me consider taking a bite myself. And as the students started lining up, stretching forward their trays, I couldn’t hide my happy attitude. Watching them devour the burgers not knowing what and who was inside made me realize just how lucky I was to be in this position, and how ungrateful I was in the beginning. Slowly integrating my friend in the barrel into their digestive tract over these past weeks has been the single greatest achievement of my life. And the best part is. Only I get to know.

It’s been a couple weeks now. There’s nothing left of him, I put the last bit of him into the chicken quesadillas yesterday and now I’m struggling to get any sleep tonight thinking of what I can possibly replace him with. I didn’t realize how lucky I was when I found him. It was perfect. He was perfect. I might not stumble upon such a lucky find ever again. But I think I just found another good alternative, as my clock strikes 3:00am. And I hear my next volunteer for chili day