As I ate a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch at my desk on Wednesday afternoon, there was a knock on my door. Thinking it was Adina with the files I’d requested, I bid her enter.
Nope, it was Van the Persistent. Geez. I went back to my cheese sandwich and perusal of news on the CNN website and waited for him to speak or whatever the hell he was doing here in my office.
“May I sit?” he queried.
Oh, he was asking now? I gestured to the chair before my desk.
Once seated, he said, “I had no idea all that really went into putting on an event like that.”
I shrugged and kept on with my food, scrolling through articles with my grease-free hand.
“Do you do that all that time? I mean, step in as a waiter or whatever? Is that normal?”
I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Anything is possible. It’s
