Word: salads
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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MIDWAY through lunch at a fashionable Washington restaurant not long ago, a young man named Ralph Nader stopped suddenly and gazed down in disgust at his chef's salad. There, nestled among the lettuce leaves, lay a dead fly. Nader spun in his chair and jabbed both arms into the air to summon a waiter. Pointing accusingly at the intruder on his plate, he ordered: "Take it away!" The waiter apologized and rushed to produce a fresh salad, but Nader's anger only rose. While his luncheon companions watched the turmoil that had erupted around him, Nader launched into...
...lunchtime, and I went off to eat with the other extras. We had box lunches-two hot knockwursts wrapped in silver foil the first day, pius potato salad and a dessert and so forth (they were quite inedible). We complained so much that the next day they gave us fairly decent sandwiches. We had to eat their food because there was no time to go anywhere else...
Amexco's growth enabled it to survive a blow that might have shattered another company. In 1963, an obscure subsidiary, American Express Warehousing, was duped into issuing warehouse receipts for the nonexistent salad oil of Speculator Anthony De Angelis. American Express in 1967 agreed to pay $60 million to settle creditors' claims, half immediately, the rest in annual installments of $5,000,000 each year through 1973. The payments do not reduce Amexco's current reported profits because they are charged against earnings retained from prior years, and the company's growth has given it enough...
...could get on the VFW post, where the people were waiting for Vellucci. We entered the small room, post awards and citations on the front wall, a bar in the corner, Fred MacMurray on the tube across the room. On a table were cold cuts, cheese, rolls, potato salad and a giant cake with written on it. Vellucci insisted we take his picture beside it. For the rest of the evening he was conscious of our cameras, and whenever we focused on him he sensed it and assumed an appropriate pose...
...Hotel America, Marvin paused to receive a scroll declaring him an honorary Houstonian, then ducked into the Rib Room for a press dinner. Asked about John Wayne, he stared at two reporters with mock malevolence across his tossed salad, slowly raised a pointed finger from an imaginary holster and cried: "Zap! Whammo! Jesus, the guy's still got it." But, said one reporter, "Wayne's 62 now and his fight scenes are beginning to look a little-well . . ." "Fight scenes!" roared Marvin. "Hell, I thought those were his love scenes. Hey, don't print that...