But it looks good on you.
Which begs the question, “Is anyone listening?” January is always a dog, but we’d been sued, broken into and visited by ICE. Our advertising sideline is, well, sidelined until we can bail out the leaky pirate ship that is Smugglers’ Inn, the restaurant. Sure, we have a killer pro bono campaign in the pipe, but “pro” and “bono” are two words that mean free. We’re still looking to reap one callback from 84 gallons of World Famous© clam chowder we sent out at Christmastime to officers of Apple, Exxon, GM, TBWA Chiat Day and Choo-choo Bob’s Train Store (we just like trains). I probably shouldn’t have, but when one of our employees asked for permission to read a Prayer for Smugglers’ Inn at our annual Employee Appreciation brunch, I didn’t think to consult with the other managers.