Deadly respite

Finding a laugh-out-loud-funny article on a busy workday can feel like finding a shady oasis in the middle of the Sahara. But then again, I really haven't got the time to peruse impertinent articles, funny or otherwise, so really it's more akin to finding an oasis overflowing with salt water when my cantene is already empty. In any case, here's an excerpt from The Boy in the Bubble Reviews New York City's Most Fashionable and Trendy New Restaurants, by Joshua Yaffa. Drink up!

The menu, made up largely of expertly executed bistro classics, is a welcome relief from the misguided experiments in absurdity served at Soho House's less venerable neighbors in New York's version of Disney World, the Meatpacking District. Quite serendipitously, my blood monitor started beeping just as we began to order, making my choice of the iron-rich steak frites even more appropriate. The only unpleasantness of the otherwise relaxing evening came when an overly eager waiter offered to serve me my crème brûlée, mistakenly spooning the creamy dessert into my breathing tube. Three days later I am still periodically inhaling shards of caramelized sugar, although I suppose that is a hazard that comes with my adopted profession.

Your Favorite Jerk (at work)