So it’s finally my “weekend”. I used the cute quotation marks because it really isn’t a weekend like for most nine-to-fivers. Instead, in the food industry, a “weekend” can be Saturday and Sunday all rolled up into one day. In my case, this week, it’s a Friday. I know, I can hear you all cheering. But it’s not that jovial for me. You see, normal clock-punchers are off Saturday and Sunday. So I’m off Friday, wooopty-do. Most of friends are working. “Go out at night”, you say? I have to work Saturday afternoon, not enough time for curing a hangover. As you get older, it takes more time to recover. I can’t even party two nights in a row anymore without my head feeling like midgets are wrestling inside. But anyways, you want to know what else? I’m off Friday. Great. Ninety-nine percent of people in my business work on Friday nights because ninety-nine percent of the nine-to-fivers go out to EAT on Friday night. So that leaves Tam sitting at home, surfing the net for unusual stories like THIS