New person lunch

Ah, the new person lunch. As I was walking downstairs to take my copy edits to one of our art directors I was invited to go to a "new person lunch."

In some cultures, this phenomena could be referred to as torture. In America, it's strikingly similar to the high school lunch room. The left side of the table talks to their friends, the right side to theirs. Everybody turns to see who just came in the door. Conversation is shallow if not downright worthless.

New guy is both humorous and single - double bonus. It's about time we hire people who can participate in meaningful dialogue about disgruntled cat companions, crabby landlords and disastrous bar adventures. But the most intriguing part about new person lunch was not in fact new person but where we chose to woo our newest underpaid, overworked companion...the nursing home cafeteria.

Granted it's not just any cafeteria, it's a "bistro." But there is no denying that it is connected by a long fluorescent hallway to the land of old. It's an interesting mix of walkers and paisley nighties and power suits and Palm Pilots that solicit JJ's Bistro in Metro Center. You can not help but look around.

I wonder if the "regulars" feel threatened by our presence? Look at our plates as they shuffle to the line and think, "that little fella better not have gotten the last of the chocolate mousse."

Regardless, an odd choice of location for the new person lunch - though the food is damn delicious. You should visit sometime soon.