My absolute favorite part of this entire week:
The little old italian lady sitting at the next table over in the cafeteria coming over and telling J, my manager, that if he & C. didn't knock it off, she was going to send the mafia after him to break his knees.
This was a few minutes after she proved him wrong - italians DO call it gravy.
I laughed so hard, I think I peed my pants a little.
Some days, I'm not sure how I ever make it through lunch.