Bait and switch

The word went out last night at 11:30 that the menu hotline at The Big Hospital Across Church Street was predicting pulled pork barbecue in the cafetorium. Barbecue! On a bun! Forget the catfish fillet and fennel slaw in the brown bag I'd brought in. Splurge! Why not? I was down to 12 bucks in the bank account, but in 2 hours my Direct Deposit ship was coming in. Barbecue! I took off across the quartermile skywalk with my debit card. "Where's the barbecue?" I asked Mr Happy, the peevish night cook. Mr Happy did not like people who made him grill cheeseburgers. He wanted everyone eating from the hot line. I thought he would be pleased with people craving barbecue. But There was no barbecue that I could see. Only Cheesy Big Lumps and UFOs (unidentified fried Objects). Mr Happy looked shame-faced ."We ran out of barbecue. We thought we had some, but we had to put out pizza instead".

I did not want Cafetorium pizza that was burnt on the outside and uncooked dough on the inside. So my meal was catfish fillet after all, with a cup of marinated mushrooms from the salad bar.

"It was a hoax." I announced to my disappointed co-workers. "We're screwed now", someone muttered. They all regretted not having ordered Hot Wings earlier when the Wing Zone was open. I knew what was coming next. They would send out a hunting party 2 blocks to the Jack in the Box. Safety in numbers to dodge the rats and the street people. What choice did they have? They were hungry. And everyone knows there is no hungry like Night Shift Hungry.