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This really reminds me of a funny passage from Sting's
He was talking about working at a construction site for the first time when he was young. John's CD is the lunchbox here.

"It is now lunch break, and there are about twenty of us on the gang stuffed into a wooden hut at the edge of the site. These are tough burly men crammed onto wooden settles. Everyone lights up and starts reading the Mirror, the Sun, and the Sporting Life while tucking into massive doorstep sandwiches and swilling down great mouthfuls with scalding tea and rude laughter. We are surrounded by a fog of cigarette smoke and the steam from a battered metal urn on the table. Being new, I take my place quietly in the corner. Famished, and with frozen fingers, I prize open the Tupperware container and stare for a brief second with horror at its contents. My darling mum made me a selection of delicate cucumber sandwiches cut into finger-size fours that would not be out of place at a vicar's garden party, but exhibiting them here, in this Dante's Inferno of a builder's shed, would be tantamount to wearing a pink tutu and pearl earrings. I shut the plastic lid quickly before anyone can see the source of my embarrassment, but maybe too quickly. "Wozza marra" "Not hungry," I reply, none too convincingly. I will pack my own lunch from now on.