I Miss Lunch
You know what I miss most about my old job?
Lunch.
My former place of employment is located downtown, walking distance to any of the city’s finest midday eateries. Feel like a Reuben? There’s a spot for that. Bowl of chili? Spot for that. Burrito? Yup, spot for that. Beer? Yes. A couple of spots for that, too.
It was a great way to break up the day and get some socializing done while stuffing my face full of whatever can be served in a breadbowl. Just relaxing. Eating. Talking. Laughing.
There is no work to be done in a café, unless you’re toiling away at a tuna on rye. Don’t bring that report with you, Mr. Manager, you’re just going to spill that cup of clam chowder all over it. This isn’t a coffee shop, Trendy Office Hipster, put your laptop or book of ironic poems away and knuckle down on a vegan cheeseburger or some kind of $12 salad. Hey, Depressed Guy with the loosened tie and wrinkled shirt! I feel your pain, buddy. All of our jobs are in jeopardy. Let’s share this plate of extra cheesy nachos while we can still afford it.
Most of the patrons are dressed in their business-casual attire, the occasional executive with gaudy bow-tie, HR ladies with their power-suits and sensible walkin’ shoes. Office Hipster in a tight jacket even though it’s mid-July (as ironically) and messenger bag. Everyone’s just eating and drinking. Trying hard to talk about anything other than the serious bidnizz that awaits them when they get back to the office.
I miss lunch.
This is Day 90, folks. If any of my former coworkers want to get together for lunch, gimmie a call. I’m down for a Chicken Salad from Tony’s or a burger & beer from Cap. Ale.
