Hello, My Name is Jeff.

Dear Sir or Madame,

Hello, my name is Jeff.  More likely than not, you do not know me.  I work at one of the businesses housed in your building.  Before you confront coworkers or random people standing at the fridge, know that it was I that used your ranch dressing yesterday.  I had brought a delicious set of leftovers from home.  They were buffalo chicken fajitas, quite spicy, and as you may or may not know, nothing goes better with the buffalo chicken/hot sauce flavor than a rich, palatable complement of ranch dressing.  Please try to understand.  I saw it in the fridge of the building’s break room.  I did not intend to use too much, and yet there was not much in the bottle to begin with.

After yesterday’s fajitas, I couldn’t bear to leave so little left and so, today for lunch, used the rest of the ranch in the bottle to dress a very naked plate of lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers.

After that, it did not seem proper to return an empty bottle of ranch to the fridge, so I took the liberty of disposing it for you.  I hope you don’t mind.

As for compensating you for the loss… well, I fear that that is impractical.  If I replace the ranch there is a great chance some other desperate soul will take it before you have an opportunity to use it yourself, and thus the cycle will continue.  I’m sure you see reason in this.  If not, my apologies.  It was a crime of necessity.  Have you seen Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables? Think of me as Jean Valjean.  Really.  The fajitas, while pleasant, are unworthy without ranch.

Farewell, and may you write your name on the ranch dressing next time, so that I may know to whom I should address a note such as this in the future.

Sincerely,

Jeff