Look for the union label
January 2010I don’t know what was funnier, the cafeteria in the House of Hubris shutting down after an outbreak of food poisoning or the fact that a three-graf blog post about it needed two bylines. (Hey, buyout guys: You missed some!) I’m just surprised the old Cafe Regret escaped a similar fate — I can still hear the moaning after anyone ate the smoked tuna there, and I know the one day of work I ever missed because of physical illness was due to a wrap I stupidly ingested on a deadline day when I could not escape for lunch. Mostly it all made me remember the shitstorm after we let now-Mme Friend write a little piece about the onetime-House of Ruth’s shiny new cafeteria in which she referred to something like a “sad little cookie” on our 11th floor. The publisher was not amused: Next day the section editor had the equivalent of a horse’s head on her desk, a couple of, yes, wraps from the CR and a snide note from the GWB of newspapers on how they were proof positive of the quality fare on offer just a few flights away. How the mighty have tripped. So here’s a stylish hat tip to the Crocodile for his new corporate slogan: If the work won’t kill you, the food will.