Lunch

So, I heat up my Uncle Ben’s Noodle Bowl (Ginger Chicken) in the office microwave. I happen to hear, towards the end of the 5 minute initial dose, a little sizzle and pop. No big deal. I peel back the plastic top, stir, and pop the Bowl in for its last one minute turn.

Sizzle. Pop. “Weird,” I think, not used to this high degree of sizzle pop coming from the Uncle.

So I take the food back to my desk so I can do a little work while I eat. And I take a bite. And something Just Doesn’t Feel Right.

My Ginger Chicken is really Chicken Fat and Gristle with a Little Ginger. I got the scraps. The noodles, they just sat there, sullen.

I, of course, decided that maybe I’d eat out. Despite the fact that my appetite followed the Bowl into the trash can, it was 2 o’clock and I was getting a little afternoon hunger-woozy. So I thought I’d grab a sandwich at my favorite local little eatery – something cheap, because the whole point of the Uncle was to save a little cash.

I walk into the eatery and notice how empty it is. Of course, after 2 o’clock, most people had eaten lunch. I walk up to the counter and a very nice lady said, “The kitchen is closed.” She pointed me to the counter of ready-to-eat food. There was a browning salad, a few pizzas, cold and wrapped in saran wrap, and a few other not so impressive items, all cashing it at $5 or more which, when you came to work with lunch to save money, and when you’ve already chewed on a few pieces of gristly fat, just feels like a lot for brown lettuce or cold pizza. Having survived on brown lettuce and cold pizza for a number of years, I knew that $5+ was a bit beyond the cost/purchase ratio.

So, feeling those last few minutes of lunch slipping through my fingers, I did what everyone who just had a generally disgusting and frustrating food day would do.

I bought two hot dogs from the street vendor. $2.50 worth of pork parts. With onion.

The vendor discretely slipped a tidily wrapped breath mint into my bag.