Operation Tub Res-Q

Let's just start by saying that it's not just any Tupperware. It is the perfect size for holding one sandwich (two slices of bread, three slices of turkey/ham or two slices of roast beef and one slice of cheese with all the fixins I could possibly want) but a shining example of technology and the triumph of the Amerincan spirit working in harmony. It is vintage and retro; not to mention that it's the one my mom used to use when she packed my lunches way back in gradeschool. You won't find it in stores, beleive me I've looked. There are two sets available via the interweb but buying someone's used tupperware is wrong on some many different levels. OK, now that that's out of the way, I want it back.

Background:
So I am now in the uneviable task of retrieving said Tupperware (the Tub) from the clutches of 8-Minute Girl (8MG), who is neither evil, vindictive nor clingy; I'm just not that crazy about her. As to why she has the Tub, I only have myself to blame. On the night of our last encounter I was making a batch of chocolate-chip cookies to bring to my co-workers the next day and thought to myself, "wouldn't it be nice to bring 8MG and her roommate a cookie?" This would not only be an automatic excuse for any delays that I would encounter finding parking, but also boost my status in the eye's of her roommate. Booyah - mad cookie points!

Ultimately, through the course of the night, I realized that things just weren't clicking. And despite the fact that the Tub was still at her residence, I did not feel that it was in my best interest at the end of the night to "go upstairs" to retrieve it.

Plan:
So how do I manage to extract the Tub from her? After much musing invloving ropes, pulleys and tazers, I've decided that the best plan of action is to arrange a meeting where she will bring the so-called Tupperware with her and a handoff will take place. Simple enough you say. Oh no, here's the rub. I do not want to continue any sort of relations with 8MG, nor do I want to have to pay for another night's worth of entertainment. Oh and I guess leading her on would not be the most prudient or moral decision on my part. But I have to keep reminding myself that in the game of love and plastic lunchtime containers a little rain must fall.

I am entrusting the help of a few friends (Accomplices) to disengage any potentially misguided directives sent her way. A crowd of new faces will not only disarm and confuse her, but will also put things on the "Hey, everyone's reaching for their own wallet when the bill comes" level.

Action:
Call her tonight to make chit chat and set up the possiblity for a meeting Wednesday night, when I have an alumni event that I will be attending with a few friends (Accomplices, knowing and unknowing). Afterwards we will mosey on to a watering hole located conveniently near her place of living. "Hi we're on our way to X (Location), want to meet us in a few? Oh, while I'm thinking of it, can you grab my Tupperware from the other night? Thanks a bunch. See you in a few."

Payoff:
Some introductions are made. A few drinks are shared. The Exchange takes place. I depart and through an elaborate network of favors, payoffs and circumstance, my mysterious disapperance from the Unite States will be made known to her. And just like that I'm off scott-free Tupperware in hand.

Official Summer Hotdog Tally: 27