![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgekXhfF7Llpo7bMKMmJ9s8FgU5RF1U0Z5c_lXuDJ5dQR_Lebe7CgUP2pW6822mrP41WxCsXuMWRLi7s5QFuG1iVCkqYFCIkDcYPRlvjANPCpMpCwpWHCMflhWJa4LXW_hlmO1nnlTATOk/s320/cafeteria.jpg)
I don’t know that I would call this a cafeteria. I used to work in the kitchen at a restaurant in New York run by someone I shall not reveal. Rest assured that he’s very famous, and he may even have a show or two on TV. Now I’m providing “food” to corporate stiffs who are always on their phones and too busy to acknowledge that I’m a person, not just an arm attached to a plate. I consider this to be just one step above shoveling sloppy joes for snotty children. God, I hate kids even more than businessmen. I used to live in Manhattan where people leave you alone. Now everybody wants to stop and have a conversation. Why would I want to do that? Just take your food and walk away. I wonder if it’s this bad in other corporate cafeterias, or if it’s just an Analion thing. Crap, I gotta go. We’ve nearly run out of—I can’t believe I have to say these words…tater tots. Shoot me now.
No comments :
Post a Comment