The Hideous Free Work Lunch

There isn’t much that’s sacred in corporate America these days. The soul of the American white collar worker received its pink slip a couple of years ago, and basic dignity was shown the door last year in uncomfortable fashion with two weeks’ severance and a kick in the pants as parting gifts. Still, we need something to which we can cling, a last bit of turf to call our own. I submit to you that lunch is the final frontier. I’m not demanding extended time out of the office every day or anything of the sort. I eat at my desk quite frequently and am more than happy to do so.

No, I request only that I be allowed to dine on a meal of my choosing without being made to feel like I’m pulling a shady move. Nothing drives me crazier than having to deal with a work lunch where sandwiches are provided. I honestly don’t mean to sound ungrateful. If I wasn’t appalled by tomatoes and the combination of juice and seeds they bestow on every piece of bread and sandwich meat with which they come in contact, it wouldn’t be a problem. I can actually get past the shredded lettuce which couldn’t be entirely removed from your sandwich if attacked with a shop vac. But I wouldn’t even mind that all sandwiches are ordered with the presumptuous mindset that everyone loves deli sandwiches with lettuce and tomato (and occasionally even more egregiously, with mayonnaise) if I could be allowed to alternatively go procure a lunch of my choosing. After all, that’s what all the long hours are for, are they not? So that a man can take six dollars of hard earned disposable income and buy something moderately appealing for lunch rather than staring down the barrel of a lunch that triggers nightmares from my youth. I thought I was past the point of being forced against my will to eat food that I find disgusting. If I finish this wretched tomato-drenched sandwich, do I get an extra 30 minutes of cartoons on Saturday? And one other question before I move on. What in the hell is with the chip selection that accompanies these pre-ordered lunches? I feel relatively certain that plain Lay’s potato chips and Sun Chips would both have been discontinued long ago had they not worked their way into the corporate lunch racket.

A youngster acquiring the skills needed to make it through a corporate lunch meeting

But I am not all complaints and bitterness, my friends. No, I have a solution for the lettuce and tomato haters out there who peruse their Outlook calendar and see the dreaded working lunch meeting in their future. It’s relatively simple, and though it requires some violation of social norms it can be pulled off fairly easily once you’ve got the technique down. Now your standard boxed lunch is going to be a deli sandwich cut in half with a meat of your choosing and the aforementioned lettuce and tomato. What you do is quite simply take the two defiled halves and turn them into one oversized, tolerable half. Grab your boxed lunch and head for your seat. Wait until there is sufficient commotion or, even more ideally, a presenter has started talking. When everyone’s focus is elsewhere, you slide the entire top of both halves off to the side. This removes the ruined top piece of bread as well as the lettuce and tomato. You next subtly take one half and flip it over on top of the other, thus making one large half sandwich. Not only are the unwanted toppings gone, but the two pieces of bread you kept typically have not even been touched by tomatoes.

There is an advanced version of this in which you grab an extra napkin and attempt a detailed wiping of the cheese to further purify your sandwich, but that is not to be attempted by beginners. Having your boss watch you polish a slice of Swiss cheese with your napkin while the rest of the room discusses the contents of a PowerPoint slide is something to be avoided at all costs.