Kitchen Nemesis, Part 1

I have a kitchen nemesis. She does not know that she is my sworn enemy, but her ignorance does not protect her. We are engaged in a fraught and dangerous struggle, and only one of us will win. I am determined to overcome this pernicious individual by any means necessary.

Let me explain. We have a kitchen at work: it is a fairly small space, with enough room for a toaster, microwave, and coffee machine on the sideboard. At best, 2 people can get into this space at any one time - any more than this, and a fantastically complicated jigsaw of pirouettes and avoidance must be performed in order to fit everyone in. This kitchen serves as a central hub for around 30-40 people on our floor.

Most people, having experienced the dizziness of negotiating this small nook of a kitchen, tend to try and get in and out with a minimum of fuss, and spend as little time in there as possible, so as to inconvenience anyone else as little as possible.

Not the kitchen nemesis: oh no. She has decided that this is the perfect place to talk to her colleague about all kinds of things, often for 10 minutes at a time, while she slowly butters a single piece of toast. Rather than having this conversation at her desk (her henchman and partner in crime sits opposite her, anyway), they continue their trivial small talk in the kitchen, preventing anyone else from entering, and generally being a nuisance, and flouting the unspoken rules of the kitchen.

I shall have my revenge. Oh yes, I shall have my revenge.