Early lunch and the end

Attorneys eat lunch early. It’s my friend Eric’s birthday, so I met him and a co-worker for lunch to celebrate. At 11:30. Who eats then?

We all work outside of Salt Lake in an area called West Valley City, a strange place with -- quite frankly -- some strange people. Warehouse and office space are cheap here (like $.50/square foot), so several organizations make this their home. If it were ever my home, I’d be more than mildly depressed.

Eric and Lindsey, who joined us, are prosecutors for the city, which means they have the pleasure of spending far more time with the finest citizens that West Valley has to offer than I do. Mostly, my contact with West Valley City comes when I head to 3500 South during my lunch hour and complain about it; 3500 South, between Redwood Road and Bangerter Highway, looks like a scene out of my days in central Florida. Three-lane roads lined with every fast food establishment imaginable, decrepit cars featuring gaudy rims worth more than the rest of the vehicle, and flat, horizontal roads in each direction. If it weren’t for the snowy mountains in the distance, I’d swear it was Orlando.

Today also marks the end of an era, albeit a very brief one. A new friendship that I established during my last trip to New York is no more. Today is the agreed upon end date. Also agreed was a public humiliation of her via this weblog. I am supposed to write terrible things like, she kills puppies, solely for sport and then does not make efficient use of the meat or the skins. Or that she emits an odor reminiscent of formaldehyde. Or that she has such little control of her temper, I witnessed her push aside a small elderly woman who requested her seat on the subway. And then kept her cane. Unfortunately, none of these things are true. Instead, she is clever and engaging and a wonderful distraction from my work. Today though, it’s all over.