First, some back story: In my first post-college job at a newspaper chain, I had a bad habit of eating my lunch mid-morning, which left me hungry in the late afternoon. I just didn't have enough self control, and I guess it had a bit to do with stress management. At some point I made a rule that I wouldn't eat any of my lunch until noon. I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person, and the rule has actually worked out pretty well.
Yesterday I brought to work leftover Peruvian chicken that my wonderful wife saved for me from dinner out with some of her Lafayette College international students. It's got this delicious green sauce that seeped through my wall of self control and destroyed my rule. By 11:30, I'd eaten half or more of the chicken.
One of my co-workers asked me if I wanted to join him -- and I think others -- for lunch at College Hill Tavern. I explained about the eating binge and he understood. Not a minute had passed (sitcom timing) when my boss asked me if I wanted to go to lunch with him.
I had just a few seconds to process this dilemma. I was partly full, but I didn't want to turn my boss down because even though he's good-natured and would have understood, well, he's my boss. Plus, I knew he'd take me somewhere good, these offers don't come too often, and no matter how hard I'd try, he wouldn't let me pay. I accepted.
In a sitcom, my co-worker would find out, and hijinks would ensure. I'd get some comeuppance for turning down his invitation and then accepting a better one.
As long as you don't tell Bill, and he doesn't find out about this blog, I should be safe.
You can keep a secret, right?
