The Fearful Wrath of the Gnarly Staff Fridge Innards

A fridge at a workplace makes sense, there are breaks, and people eat food on those breaks, food that may need to be kept cold. Fine, whatever, yay fridge. It’s an unspectacular thing really, but useful when you require it,  which is all it should ever be.
On some occasions though, it is far from unspectacular. 
When a rancid odor poisons the air of the staff room and you’re left gagging and stifling your nose, it’s clear something has gone rotten. But it must be the garbage or the bottle bin because that would make sense. There’s no door to mask the scent, for they are left in the open, easy to access. Why would it be anything but? Then the fridge is opened and a wave of foul air engulfs the room and now, you know. 
This happened in my staff room. Two separate times over a couple of weeks the fridge was battled. One of my managers engaged in the first attack, bravely retrieving the soiled contents from within the rectangular prism of ew. Four containers died that day, and I mean proper reusable plastic containers, as well as some other disposable ones joining throughout the raid. The next assault was led by this sweet, little, curly-haired Brazilian coworker. A barrier partially blocked our mother tongues, but no barrier blocked her nose and the furry food remains that it sniffed. This five-foot-three warrior gently sniffed every container she removed from that fridge to see exactly what was devolving into fertilizer and what was still edible. She was then joined by the manager who challenged the fridge a few days prior. Together they recovered five more containers (the good and proper kind, may they rest in peace), one of which was wrapped in a garbage bag. Who knows why but at this point lads, I’ve given up asking questions about the actions of humans. This multi-day event brought forth nine casualties. Nine food containers that were abandoned, left to die in the staff fridge. Nine containers of sustenance that wasted away in the cold and dark of their eventual coffin. 
I lied when I said I no longer ask questions about people because I have to ask now… how the bloody fuck does this stinky small-scale mild catastrophe happen?!?!
My other manager took cover in the cash office whilst this miniature war went down, but she faced the aftermath, armed with a bottle of Febreeze and a box of baking soda. She fought valiantly to drive away the rank smell that haunted our noses. We were all affected those days and we are left wondering, 
“why?” 
“Why this happen?” 
It’s truly a question for the ages since you have to wonder if people just straight up forget they brought a lunch or don’t care enough to take home the leftovers or are actively trying to execute everyone slowly via icky smell. 
Staff rooms are not personal rooms, they are shared amongst many people. The kitchen space is not to be treated the same as a home kitchen space. Everyone needs to clean up after themselves in a timely manner. Hell, we even have a person scheduled each day to clean the place, and if your name is present on a friday, it’s your duty to clean out the fridge also. Evidently that had been ignored for many moons. Not surprising really as most people don’t even clean the kitchen when it’s their turn. 
I just find the whole thing odd because most of us are adults. These are folks with apartments, maybe houses, perchance significant others and or pets. These are humans with responsibilities, yet they fail at the most basic task of half assedly tidying up a small counter space and possibly the microwave. They fail even more at keeping track of what the hell they stock in the fridge. Neither of these things should be simple to fuck up. This kind of fuckery should be difficult to achieve. 
 I suppose I also shouldn’t have such high expectations.