Trading Spaces

August 17, 2008 at 1:39 AM | Posted in Riding In Cars With Pizza | Leave a comment
  Although Thursday night was busier, it went smoother.  Wednesday we died about 9:15.  Completely died–no more runs the rest of the night.  That gave me time to back up and regroup, and get my stuff done in an orderly fashion…
  …Even though I had only the vaguest of ideas about what I had to do.  I should pay better attention.
  But Thursday, there were no problems.  No FNG, and no unexpected suits visiting.  Me and Dina. 
  About 6:20, she says to me, "So, you think you can handle this?"
  That was a rhetorical question.  She wants to bail.  She’s going to leave, because her daughters are at home alone.  Asking me was just more polite than running out the door laughing, and yelling, "So long, sucka-face!"
  Contrary to what you may think from reading this, I’m not a big whiner/complainer.  No, really.  Shut up.  Anyway, I said, "Well, either I can or can’t.  There’s only one way to find out."
  Puff of smoke as she makes her exit.
  Mike is scheduled to work all day.  Shortly after Dina leaves, wants to know if I would be interested in a trade.  "But I’ve never even seen your wife," I said.  The Bread Company aka The St Louis Bread Company aka Panera Bread–a couple of guys there wanted to trade food with us.  It’s not uncommon.  I said, "What do they want?"
  "A couple of sandwiches."
  "They have sandwiches.  What the hell?"  We’re still busy, but eventually we get an order together, and find out what they want.  They’re getting a couple of large pizzas, two orders of wings, and some cinnastix.  And we get four or five sammiches and some soups.
  Okay, I…I’m not into fru-fru bullshit.  And the Bread Co menu is fru-fru bullshit.  It even has a menu section called fru-fru Bullshit.  Opposite page is the section for women and gay men on diets.  I found something I wanted, I think.  A panini–whatever the hell that is–with turkey, cheese, and bacon.  Leave or the weird gourmet mustard.  According to the menu, that’s all that was on it.
  We get the food, and I dig through this big ass sack of sammiches, and they are wrapped in a fru-fru manner, and inside you can see that they were made in a fru-fru style by fru-fru sammich makers.  I…can’t find my sammich.  Wait, there it is.  I think.  The closest thing–
  Okay, it has turkey on it.  Isn’t a panini supposed to be toasted or grilled or some shit?  No cheese.  No bacon.  But it does have lettuce tomato onion on it.  And, as I lift up the lettuce seaching in vain for bacon–
  Mayonaise.  Mother fucker.  I am not happy.
  We traded for this, so it’s basically free.  How do you complain about free shit?  All of their stuff was right (as far as I know).  If not, fuck em.  No, I don’t see any hypocrisy, why do you ask?
  Serena said it sounds like the sammich I got was a different one on the menu from the one I ordered.  Thank you, CSI Miami. 
  You know how I feel about mayo.  YOU KNOW.  So don’t start any shit with me.  I had to explain over and over to the girls here at the bank about it, and they just don’t get it.  Peggy says I’m complicated.  I said, "No, I’m not.  I’m the opposite of complicated.  I’m a simple, simple man.  I like my food plain, and simple.  The Bread Company has a made a powerful and formidable enemy.  I shall never forget.
  Well, you know.  I mean, I’ll get over it.  I’m pretty much done now, in fact.  I took the turkey off–it wasn’t touching the mayo–and made a whole new sammich with it from Domino’s materials.  I’m about to eat it for lunch, in fact.  I saved it.  Plus, they had broccoli cheddar soup, and the soup was good.  So, I’m …done. 
  But notice how quickly I stepped right back into the routine?
Advertisements

Leave a Comment »

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.

%d bloggers like this: