Deep-Fried Nonsense

Today was my short day at work. I call it that, not because I don't work eight hours, but because I go in an hour earlier on Wednesdays and I don't have to take my lunch. I escape two hours earlier than a normal day. I leave at two instead of four. "Short Day"

So I only get a thirty minute break. Not much time to feed my face and do the crossword, so I decide I'm going to order from the quickie menu. "Gimme a chicken thigh and lump of mac and cheese."

"A lump?" She gives me the hairy eye.

"I mean a scoop."

"Because it doesn't lump. We don't sell lumpy macaroni and cheese."

WhatEVER. Just feed me.

And even as I'm ordering it, I'm thinking that I shouldn't be eating this crap. I'm supposed to be on a diet. I had decided yesterday that I would eat healthier at lunch. Mac n cheese and a deep fried thigh does not a healthy meal make. Even as she's handing it to me across the counter, I want to tell her to put it back and give me the steamed fish. Even as I'm helping myself to a Coke Zero at the self-serve drink fountain , I'm wondering why would I actually spend money on comfort food, yet again...

So I squeeze myself into the already crowded table of meatheads I always eat lunch with, and they make a stink about it, but I know they really love me, and anyway it's their own fault they sat at MY table. I don't care if they got there first. That's MY table. You can tell by all the meatheads sitting there. And I commence to ignore them, eat my lumpy macaroni and fixate on the daily crossword.

The crypto-quote is really my favorite, but the grocery guys and I have a contest every day to see who can finish the crossword first. I only have thirty minutes today, remember? So I skipped the crypto-quote and went straight to the crossword. I can see the grocery guys through the window. They are sitting on the patio, crowded around their newspaper, filling the blanks. It takes three of them and they use the internet. I never use the internet, and the meatheads certainly don't know a seven letter word for 'concession.' I am on my own. Just me and my brain. I'm very competitive. I almost ALWAYS finish the crossword. Even on Short Days.


But not today.


Because I dropped my chicken...on the floor.

And the meatheads made fun of me. I sit there for a second just staring at it, wondering if anybody else knows about the five-second rule. How many seconds had gone by? More than five, for sure, but maybe the meathead can't count....


So I finally accept reality, scoop it up and throw it in the trash. I'm totally disappointed with myself, because I really, really wanted it...

I was so upset, I couldn't even finish the crossword.