One day, I noticed that bananas were disappearing from my desk at work. I would often buy them for lunch and sometimes not eat them, leaving them on my desk to have for breakfast the next morning. But when I came back in the morning, the banana would usually be gone. Had I lost my mind? Were my coworkers eating them? Stealing them as a joke? Was the nighttime cleanup crew tossing them? I didn’t make a big deal out of it—after all, they were just bananas.
One evening, I left my expensive sunglasses on my desk, and the next morning, they were gone. But my favorite Maui Jims? That, I would make a big stink about. I reported it to building security, and a few hours later, a burly guy with a clipboard showed up.
“What is missing?”
“My sunglasses.”
“Can you describe them?”
“They were Maui Jim’s, tortoise-shell with bronze lenses.”
“What’s the value of the sunglasses?”
“About $180.”
“Is anything else missing?”
“Well, now that you mention it, there was a banana on my desk last night that is gone now.”
“What’s the value of the banana?” No joke.
“About 75 cents?”
He said he’d file the report and left. I had a strong feeling I’d never hear from them again.
I decided to take matters into my own hands. It occurred to me that there must be software out there that could turn the MacBook’s inconspicuous webcam into a motion-sensitive camera, and indeed there is: EvoCam. I installed it, tweaked the settings, and angled my laptop toward the usual banana spot. Fresh out of bananas, I used loose change as bait instead, leaving it on my desk. I hoped to catch the thief in action and find incriminating videos to watch when I came in the next morning.
The next day, I found the change on the desk where I left it. There were indeed two recordings to watch, but they only showed the vacuum guy (not being very thorough) and the trash lady (dumping my recycling with the regular trash) coming into my cube and doing their job without even noticing the money.
The next day, I restocked the bait—this time, a banana—but no one took it.
This went on for a couple of weeks, but no one took the bananas.
Every morning, I had to eat the banana that hadn’t been stolen. I love bananas, but I was getting pretty sick of them. On top of that, I found my sunglasses. They had fallen behind my file cabinet. A normal person would’ve given up. Not me. I’m a man of principle. I had to unmask the banana thief.
Finally, on a Friday morning, I arrived to find my banana missing—and a new video waiting for me. At 5:50 AM, a woman with a security uniform came into my cube, stood at my desk, picked up the banana, inspected it, and then walked away with it. Busted.
I considered my options. I’d seen this security guard around before, and it was only a matter of time before I saw her again. Do I confront her and demand repayment for every banana she ever stole? Would that count as blackmail? I might get in trouble for that.
I called security—this case had finally cracked wide open. I went to their office with my laptop. I told the security manager I’d found my sunglasses—but also caught a banana thief on video. I excitedly opened my laptop and played the video.
His jaw dropped. He couldn’t decide what was more shocking—the theft, or the fact that someone had gone full detective mode over a banana.
“Boy, if you ever need a job in security, just let us know. We could use you.”
He called his boss from the next room, and as I played the video again, he had the same reaction. The boss then called HIS boss upstairs. We played the video again. More dropped jaws. It turns out that this woman wasn’t even supposed to have access to my floor, so she was in even more trouble than I thought. They assured me that the matter would be handled immediately.
“We can’t have someone like that on our team.”
I’m pretty sure she got fired. I’m not entirely thrilled that I may have gotten someone fired over bananas, but I rationalize it like this—if she was stealing bananas, who knows what else she might have been doing?
After I announced my victory, coworkers came forward, revealing their own missing fruit cases. Apparently, this woman had a thing for late-night produce.
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