In retrospect Philip probably shouldn't have put the bologna in the microwave. But Philip was 32 years old. He still had a childish sense of curiosity about the world. And he wondered what would happen.
For the last month Patty had been bringing her dog to work. A small ratty terrier named Bongo.
It barked at Philip every time he walked by Patty's desk. Not a "Let's play" bark either. More like a "Get the fuck away from Patty" kind of bark. Like he was even interested in Patty, a roundish red head with glasses with an annoying whistle she usedto call the dog.

So Philip --perhaps unwisely--took the microwave down from the shelf and placed it on the floor. He could feel a twinge. Not of regret but because he did not have a strong back.

He placed the bologna in the microwave and whistled several times the way Patty would