I could have named him, or eaten him. But I didn’t report him.


Guess who came to dinner?

You land three new customers in one week, one of them an illustrious name in Bay Area catering, and you want to be happy except that all of your employees are on vacation, in the hospital, or on a plane, which means you have to do the prep, baking, packaging, delivering, and clean-up on your own, in between sales calls and accounting and pitching to investors and the occasional cat nap.   You’re not one to complain but the fact that you’re only halfway to break even is like hearing “You’re more than halfway there!” at mile 13.2 while running a marathon with the first half downhill.  You are not cheered by such realizations, but at least you no longer cry.  Much.

You make your delivery and are cheered a bit when the executive chef hustles out to meet you, all smiles though he is typically kind of assholey.  He opens…

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