It happened again.
Yesterday, for the second time in 3 years, I lost a lunch buddy.
While I wish Adam the best—and I do—lunch in Flatiron just isn't going to be the same without him.
Today I schlepped to Rickshaw in a daze and brought a bento with Szechuan chicken dumples back to the office.
The whole thing seems particularly unfair because this time there wasn't even the consolation brush with rock history.
To further add insult to injury, the Black Rock Cafe apparently now serves soft pretzel sandwiches.
Should have stayed at CBS.
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