It is something the editors and I do, we take lunch here together in the cafeteria. We most of us would go elsewhere if we could. The sanatorium’s food service is resolutely uninspired and, what is worse, they insist on feeding us in the basement. This last part is not all the food service’s fault. When our building was still a sanatorium, it housed a large dining hall on the first floor, an elegant, sunlit place next to the building’s little theater. But now Continuing Nursing has taken over the hall and divided it into meeting rooms. The continuing nurses are fond of assembling, they have annexed the theater for it as well. And as a result, the sanatorium’s cafeteria has withdrawn to the basement floor. It is a dark and moist space to dine. To get there from where the elevator lets off, we must walk through long halls with low ceilings and giant, exposed metal pipes. Where it is not just the visuals that affront. Although the food service tries to disguise it, the place has the smell of a laundry room, an odd mix of mildew and bleach.
