Best Way to Get Lunch at Work?

Lowbrow Answer: Bring it from home
What are you, eight years old? Did your mom pack that for you? What do you have there? A ham and cheese sandwich on white bread? And a Jello cup? How precious. Let's go play on the monkey bars after you finish those Dunkaroos. (If you just got nostalgic when I mentioned Dunkaroos, punch yourself in the face for me.)

The best part here is that your food sits in a Tupperware container all day so that when you finally eat your crappy sandwich, it smells like sterilized old people. Mmmm, tastes like geriatric care.


Middlebrow Answer: Buy it at a restaurant
At least here you don't have to do any work. You just hand your hard-earned dollars to some acne-faced prole making minimum wage and he'll whip something up for you. He might spit it in your food first, but hey, just think of it as an added shot of protein.

Of course, any restaurant in a business district will be packed during the lunch rush, so you're forced to stand in line with a hundred other people who are dressed identically to you and just as unhappy in corporate America as you are. And you get that same depressing feeling like when you show up at an orgy and everyone in the room, including you, is a little overweight. It's just sad.


Highbrow Answer: Don't eat lunch
Even the absolute best lunch foods are horrifying. Who invented this shit? It's all sandwiches or fried meat. Or both. You aren't some mushy-brained invalid; you're highbrow. You don't need a break three hours after you get to work to surround yourself with morons munching away on personal pizzas from Papa Gino's and talking about whether the Boston Red Sox made the right decision to pull David Ortiz from the lineup. Kill me. And the Red Sox.

And what's with lunchtime turning everything into a salad? Potato salad, macaroni salad, seafood salad. Don't we just eat food anymore? Do we need to dress it up in salad every time? Look, let's say I'm getting into bed with a naked girl. Sure, some kinky role-playing or lusty foreplay is fine now and then, but at the end of the day, I just want some simple, meat-and-potatoes fucking. Call me old fashioned.