Monday, November 1, 2010

Wilbo looks for lunch in Muskegon MI in the off season.

Lunch is a ridiculous notion to a man who works in an office as a
salaryman. Why, shouldn't one be content to sit at ones desk and
nibble on a sandwich, type with one hand? I call that a sniveling
lunch but it saves money. And why not buy a case of beer for the
weekend and brew ones own coffee at home? And give the savings over to
a stockbroker as the stock market acts like a casino and the dollar
tanks and the new world order cooks up a new currency to obsolete
Yankee lucre? I much rather pass my money over to a waitress, thank
you, providing direct aid to single mothers. It's not easy to do lunch
in Muskegon. Don't talk pizza to me. It might as well be soylent green
we eat it so much. We have a full round of fast food restaurants in
town, but that's as bad as messing up ones desk with leftovers. French
have time for wine and affairs during the dejeurner. Spanish still
cling to the two hour siesta. Come into the American office after 35
minutes and be prepared to note strange looks & concerned expressions.

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