FrontLein: Naked Lunch
In a sub-10-person office such as Jewcy's, you get to know a lot about your coworkers. Whether you like it or not. Sometimes it's new and exciting, like when Joey regales us all with stories from his train-hoppin' days, traveling … Read More
Sometimes it's new and exciting, like when Joey regales us all with stories from his train-hoppin' days, traveling wanderlust between California and Colorado, in desperate search of the Big Rock Candy Mountain.
Sometimes it's funny and non-sequitur – like overhearing Weiss dealing with smarmy Israeli real-estate agents over the phone. (But not like Tahl being severely and life-threateningly injured in a car accident, I have been taught.)
And sometimes it comes out of nowhere, rending your heart with its fearless honesty and unornamented vulnerability.
It's for these reasons that we like to sometimes get out of the office and take a quick lunch together. Because Joey's leaving for L.A. again, soon, he took us all out to a restaurant for a little "afternoon delight." (That refers to food … right?)
So we all headed out to Eatery, a local, um, eatery. Everyone, that is, except Izzy, whose constant motherly references to her new baby kitten "The Colonel" have been getting Joey down.
"The Colonel, The Colonel, The Colonel," he said, "That's all I ever hear from Izzy. How about a little loving for The Deputy??" "The Deputy" is what Joey calls himself when he's feeling fancy.
Anyway, "Eatery" was a blast. I got this pulled pork sandwich dealy that had been brilliantly topped with two strips of bacon. Joey and Michael Morlitz had what looked like a bowl of peas (which, I was later informed, is called "edamame" and is not peas at all, but instead unborn fetuses injected with green dye for better visibility). Weiss had a Caesar Salad. Amy had her usual: a single Ritz cracker, which she dipped twice into her half-glass of lukewarm water.
There we were, all laughing, having a good time, discussing our recent linking to from Arts & Letters Daily. Joey had sent an email out earlier to announce it, using the subject line, "It calls for cupcakes," and it had us in pretty high spirits.
"It's times like this that you'll remember," I was thinking to myself.
And it's true: it's the little things that matter, that stick with you. I won't remember all the late nights. I won't remember frantic midnight calls telling me I made yet another mistake in the newsletter, and I certainly won't remember the paychecks (ha! ha!). All you're left with are the good times.
When we arrived back at the office, it seems that founders Jon and Jenny had taken Joey's email literally. Indeed, we were given two big boxes of cupcakes. It was then that I realized what a fool I'd been and, can you believe it, I had gotten so caught up in all this lovey-dovey shit that I'd forgotten what really matters: the cupcakes.