Hermits Rock

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Lunch with coworkers or colleagues can be awkward. For a few weeks last fall, I was invited to have lunch with a gaggle of middle-aged women, including my only nemesis, because one of them had asked whether I socialize and whether I wouldn’t want to. It was an awkward scene, and for the sake of awkwardness I absented myself when I applied for another job which one of the regulars was responsible for. I didn’t go back when I didn’t get an offer.

Today my colleagues went out to eat, but it was announced by my nemesis that they would go here. It’s less expensive, she said, than this place, although after comparing menus, I am still at a loss to describe what, in fact, is cheaper. Anyway, I didn’t go. The place only has two vegetarian dishes, a salad and an $11 pasta.

It’s not like this town is the South where everybody’s a fatty a nonsalad vegetarian dish is unheard of. In fact, it’s an easy place to be a vegetarian. But apparently, it is a difficult place to accommodate one.

So instead, I ate leftover pizza, worth about $1.50, at my desk.