The Saddest Meal I Ever Ate
It was, of course, at Sbarro in a train station
The location is a given, right? When you see a headline that says “The saddest meal I ever ate,” your brain is already going train station Sbarro before the first words can confirm it. Slate once noted that “appealing to the sort of person who actually likes food has never been Sbarro’s strong point” and called the restaurant “devoid of atmosphere, charm, and gustatory relevance.” The online literature and general cultural impression of the chain is essentially Sbarro: Because sad people get hungry, too.
Here is what happened. I had been unemployed for a spring and summer, plus part of the winter before. Freelance work covered some expenses, but mostly we were drowning. In early September, I got a job offer. It was the perfect job in every way except logistics: It was 100 miles away. My wife, a teacher, started school the following week. Same with our kids. We couldn’t move everyone in such a short window. I had to take the job. I wanted it — I’d declined earlier offers waiting for this one to materialize — but need was an equal impetus.
So I went. My family stayed.
Before I left, I helped craft a color-coded chart of the army of help we’d need to take care of the kids. An a.m. nanny would arrive at 6:30 as my wife left for work, get the kids…
