I remember you. We first met over a bologne and cheese in the 60s. Occasionally the fish sticks would be added in to our party.
We had a lot of fun during my early work days. I’d meet you around noon and we sat around with colleagues and talked about all sorts of random things. The dreams we had the night before, the latest Seinfeld, and the hot actor on ER, George Clooney. Ah those were the days. Sure, the food wasn’t that great, cafeteria brocolli and ranch dressing, but the company made the whole day worth showing up for, no matter how bad.
For 10 years, we were thick as thieves, you and me Lunch. Thick as thieves.
Then things changed. Well actually, you were still available but in a different place. Our meeting place at my new work site was set up to accommodate 3 in an office of about 50. I ended up seeing you once in a while, those days when I could find a chair or sneak out to eat at the local bakery. Our relationship existed like this for four years, until I moved on to the next job.
Computers hit the work scene in full force and you and I started really drifting apart. I began working as an outreach educator and when I asked about lunch, my boss said, “Oh, lunch, we usually just sit at our desks, but you can take one half hour if you want.”
It wasn’t looking good for us lunch, I should have seen it coming. We managed though, we got together once in awhile. Sometimes, the public kitchen was empty of students and we went in and heated up our macoroni and cheese and sat at the table with other people escaping their office cubes. Other days lunch, you and I would try and take a walk together. Now that was fun, remember how we talked about the good old days when we could actually hang out together. We were going to try and make it work like it use to, do you remember Lunch?
But now, lunch, years later, our relationship is all but dead. I see you about 3 minutes a day while I’m walking from my classroom to my office or while I’m typing something on my computer. I miss your scent, your crunch, and I miss your companionship,
I miss bul shi ing about life. I could feel you lunch, touch you, exchange words and emotions with you, you felt more warm and fuzzy than my metal computer. No matter how we slice it lunch, it just isn’t the same. I want you in my life, I need to talk, I need to communicate and see what is happening in the world, what I’m missing on Facebook. I just don’t know when you will be coming back. But if you can find a way to ease yourself back into my life, by all means I will be happy to see you.