I recently ate at a local pub, but instead of concentrating on the food (which was actually quite good), I spent the time trying to figure out the meaning of these words, which appeared in large type on the menu: “Business Bites Lunch.” There was no punctuation in the original, so I’m assuming this is not a sentence about pin-striped-suiters gnawing on midday meals. The only alternative meaning I could come up with was that “business” is biting into the time allotted for lunch.  Your ideas welcome.

And then there’s this sign:

Which executive would you like to eat for lunch?

Now I’m picturing a steam table keeping CEOs, CFOs, and other executives warm as they wait to be plopped on a plate by eager diners. If you feel this year’s populist rage, you may enjoy the thought of cannibalizing a few corporate board members. But even if you go with an alternate interpretation — lunch for big-wigs — another problem arises. How does the waiter decide who qualifies as an executive? Does a manager count? How about the mailroom supervisor? And is there a market for fake credentials, similar to the counterfeit IDs that teenagers present when they buy beer?

The eat-at-home crowd may be attracted by this sign, affixed to a truck delivering supplies to my local upscale (i.e. unbelievably snobby) grocery:

I’ll take three ideas and a side of coleslaw.

Had I known that “good ideas” were for sale, I’d have saved a lot of blogging time. Instead of poring over my photo cache, I’d simply walk to the corner and pick up a few “good ideas” — plus lunch. At least this store doesn’t limit its customer list to executives and business people!