Mmm stale olives.
I just showed up at Stan’s place about ten minutes ago and saw a couple pizza boxes on the floor. It didn’t look like there were any actual slices left, but there were some little olives and mushroom bits strewn across the greasy ridged paper at the bottom of the box, just enough to sate my morning munchies. So after about five minutes of talking about real things, like design mockups and the new beta signup on the home page — go sign up! — I ask Stan with a subtlety borne of wisdom that far exceeds my twenty years: “Hey, do you have any food?”
He replies, “I don’t know if there are places open. Hold on, let me ask Josh.”
Clearly, he isn’t getting the point here, so I think about a new tack while he learns from Josh that no, nothing around here is open right now. Simple and direct, I decide with a pound of my fist, is the way to go.
“What’s up with that pizza on the floor?”
“Oh. I think that’s from last night.”
Bingo. Breakfast is served.