Note to self; never put the name of a holiday in a post title, it just sits there mocking the fact you haven't posted...
So, a postable event happened in the world of work the other day: while working with Engine Electric up on 139th St. in Harlem, a strange smell started emanating from the basement. Now, this is far from unusual. The unfinished basement on a site under construction around here is often one giant urinal, and in some of these places that is just the beginning of the offal you can find there after sometimes decades of use by rats, squatters, crackheads and the like.
The ladder to the basement can also be the route for things like propane fumes from the plumber's large construction space heaters that have blown themselves out. But this smell was different. I swung down the ladder to investigate and found the plumbers...well...take a look:
Yes, that's right...pork chops. (Those are the cooks on ladders doing plumbing in the back.) And it was great! I have eaten some strange meals in some strange circumstances over the years, especially recently, and have learned one thing: the look of the kitchen has little to do with the quality of it's food. In fact, when it comes to cleanliness there is almost an inverse correlation.