Neon Memes • Each Friday for roughly a decade and a half, my friend Leonard Rifkin and I have met for breakfast, first at the downtown O.T. Hodge, then, when our employers both relocated to Clayton, at a similar county eatery. That regimen sparked a small tradition on my part. Every Christmas, in city and county alike, I customarily gifted the restaurant staff with candy to thank them for tolerating me throughout the year. Sad to say, the Clayton eatery sold, faltered, folded and reopened―and the new owner struck me as a schmendrick, a schmuck, a schmo. (That explains why he and the Clayton eatery go unnamed herein.) He directly fired the eatery's long-time waitress and cook both. Soon thereafter, I persuaded Leonard to breakfast elsewhere in Clayton, and we've since happily alternated between First Watch (8001 Forsyth Boulevard, 314.863.7330) and Stratton's Café (190 Carondelet Plaza, Suite 176, 314.726.0900). Still, I find myself missing "our" waitress and cook at the unnamed place. This year, instead of candy, I have only fond thoughts to dispatch―so Deb and Val, wherever you are, I hope you're having a merry Christmas. (And to that putz, your former boss? A lump of anthracite upside the head!) ―Bryan A. Hollerbach, Managing Editor
A Tradition Discontinued
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