Doing Lunch

I am extremely awful at "doing lunch."

Years ago, as the creative director of an ad agency, I had lunch often. It was, and still is, something I hate to do.

First, I can’t talk and eat at the same time. (I can’t walk and chew gum at the same time either, but that’s another matter.) I try to find things on the menu that would not crumble in my hands or drip down my chin.

Second, the person who talks the least is also the one able to eat the most lunch. Because I was usually trying to persuade my luncheon companion, I talked the most and ate the least.

But my biggest problem with "doing lunch" is it can take two or three hours out of your day. You could close two deals at that time, if you’d just have a meeting instead of "doing lunch."

A long time ago, I was in a group of authors and cartoonists which everyone (except its members) called The Liar’s Club. The group had been meeting in downtown Sarasota, Florida for thirty years when I was invited to join.

The club’s most prominent former member was the late novelist, John. D. McDonald. When I joined, the current members were Joseph Hayes, Tim Kantor, and Robert Plunket, along with popular cartoonists Dik Browne, Chris Brown and Ralph Smith.

I was invited into the group primarily, I think, because of my remarkable ability to lose as the game of liar’s poker, played with the digits on dollar bills. Appropriately, liar’s poker is the game of choice each time the club members do lunch.

Our weekly get-togethers serve no good business purpose. We are not doing lunch; we are just having lunch as a convivial break before and after we do work.

I didn’t manage to attend every Friday because I was writing my second novel, Extreme Close-up, which ended up selling most of my mystery novels.

However, six months without showing up, I would be taken off the roster. So, I tried to show up at least every six weeks because, if I am dropped from the roster, I’ll have to go through Hell Week again.

"Hell Week" is being forced to do lunch every day for a week with a financial planner, an insurance salesman and the Pastor of the Church of the Almighty Lord (COAL).

Copyright 2023 Lary Crews