I am going to turn into a French Fry.

Lunch time in corporate America is the one acceptable break in the day. Whether you have to run an errand or need some fresh air, high noon is the time to act. With this being said, lunch time as a new employee is like third grade recess. I often think to myself, “Am I going to get invited to grab a bite with the boys?” “Will I be left eating alone and gchatting to have some social interaction?” Working with all men, I have found that the least awkward way to interact socially is to accept lunch invitations. I am not only the one female but also the youngest, I usually defer to the hankerings of the masses, which inevitably involves some form of fried food. I have tried to peel off, grab a salad, and join but I never escape the side comments of not being able to have a cheeseburger with the guys. My brilliant plan of seamless social immersion has only lead to tighter clothes and clogged arteries. And I only thought that you could leave the playground with a skinned knee…