Same old same old
Bending to my very opinionated body’s (well, stomach) whim is an enlightening experience. Well, rather, actually having an opinion is an experience for me. I tend to be very go-with-the-flow, with a side of path-of-least-resistance, and whatever-makes-you-happy-dear. If you’re into astrology, I’m the definition of a Libra.
If left to my own devices, I would buy the same groceries at the store each week, would make the same lunch/dinner menus each week, and would live a pretty predictable food-eating life. Most predictably, my restaurant choices are exhibit A – same omelet at the one breakfast joint, same Reuben at the lunch spot. If we go somewhere often enough, the waitstaff are bound to catch on.
Which brings us to today, and my sudden urge to have a lunch salad. You know, the kind of salad that doesn’t come before your actual meal, but IS your actual meal? Topped with… toppings… extravagant toppings, including but not limited to, beans, corn, chicken, perhaps tortilla strips? Obviously a mexi-salad, I’m thinking of. But the mere thought of going to a place with such a delicious selection of hot sandwiches and fresh, salty french fries, and instead, ordering… and PREFERRING a lunch salad? Well, man – that’s just screwed up on so many levels. To me, at least. First, it’s pickles, now it’s a lunch salad – what in God’s name will be next!?