This morning at the hotel I was staying at, I had a chance encounter with a petty injustice.
There was a "make your own waffle" station, and all three waffle irons were open, so I poured myself a waffle and then took my milk over to the table I had chosen.
When I returned, there was a guy standing in front of my waffle iron, waiting for it to beep. There was another waffle cooking now, too. I stood there, looking at this man who was guarding my waffle for a minute.
Man: These waffle irons can be pretty confusing. Do you want me to show you how to use one?
Me: No. I already poured myself a waffle.
Man: Yeah, it's pretty easy to forget which waffle iron you poured your batter into.
Then he opened the iron, took out my waffle and walked away.