Slipstreaming to an Executive Lunch

Chillin like a villain after my pseudo-50s executive lunch.

All that’s missing is the Cuban cigar.

What had happened was, I broke from the day and went to lunch with two of my dear sister-friends. Since one lives just east of me and the other lives in Pasadena (about 50 miles west of us two), we decided to meet at this little Japanese place between us. It is a location that I planned to boycott because the last time I’d been there, service was a bit lacking. However, for convenience and as a place we all could find something on the menu to eat, I figured I’d give it another go.

Except for the young man at the counter wanting to seat us in the back, it wasn’t too bad. Especially since I asked for a table near the windows and he said I could pick the one I wanted. A first sign of executive privilege is getting what you want …

So, slipstream and Cuban cigars:

My one friend ordered a glass of red wine with her lunch and when it arrived, it was so deliciously fragrant. But I didn’t want red wine and opted for a Yaegaki Draft. It was the perfect accompaniment to my sushi. Here we were, three women, having lunch and talking about life, the universe, and everything, as if we hadn’t a care (or an office to return to) in the world. I labeled my photo above ‘pseudo-50s executive lunch’ because in the 50s, only the executives — the men folk — got such lunch breaks. I thought of the scene in the film Psycho when the loud guy comes into Janet Leigh’s boss’s office and asks for a drink from the bottle he kept in his desk. I thought briefly of the work I would have been doing if I’d not been out and how, since the day had been cool and overcast, how I might have still been lounging in my robe. I thought of the older man who had sat on the bench next to mine whilst I was waiting outside for my friends, who shared that he was there because he and his buddy met up every Tuesday for a movie.

Had I a time machine that could change my gender and racial background as it whisked me back several decades, I could have been at an executive lunch. All I needed was that slipstream moment.

And a cigar.

Notwithstanding any of that, the company, the sushi, and the sake made for a fantastic brunch/lunch, since we met at 11 and left at about 2.

Executive, indeed.

How’s your Tuesday been?

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  1. Now that’s what I call a good lunch break, my friend. My best friend of 42 years and I do that sometimes (sans Cuban cigars). Seeing our only income is social security (aged pension for both), we don’t do it very often, but when we do, it’s wonderful. There is just something… comforting? Fulfilling? Empowering? I’m not sure, but it sure feels good. In two weeks we’re going to the movies to see Judy Dench (an absolute favourite of ours) in Victoria and Abdul that will, of course, entail lunch either before or after 😀