lunch

Hi Friends. Forgive me. It has been a couple of weeks since I last blogged.  If you could see me, I would be crossing myself and asking how many "Hail Marys" I need to say.  I'm not Catholic - but I feel a tremendous amount of guilt for my procrastination.  So, I figured it can't hurt, right?  I have just been so busy eating my kids' Halloween candy that I haven't had time to write. Sugar comas are not conducive to anything other than preparing to be a contestant on The Biggest Loser.

I had a weird day yesterday. I went to my local El Pollo Loco for a pollo bowl with no pollo or cilantro (I hate that stuff- it tastes like perfume). I was in line behind a nicely dressed, mid-30's man who was texting on his iPhone- I point this out because that is why I noticed his very long well groomed fingernails. Long fingernails on a man are just nasty (unless you are a drag queen- then you get a pass). This man was not a drag queen.  In fact, other than his nails, he was macho in a kind of intimidating way. He had a shaved head with a large (old) scar on the back of it. Just as I was taking in this dude's strangeness, another guy got in line behind me. He was fairly large and had clearly been in a recent fight. I could tell this because he had a cut on his nose that was just starting to scab over and a faint black eye. The cast of characters around me was starting to make me feel as though I had stumbled into a Quentin Tarantino movie. A minute or so passed - it was a busy lunch hour. A small man in construction clothes came up and casually asked (in broken English) if we were in line. The man behind me replied with extreme venom "No, we are just standing here for fun you dumb f*ck!!"  At this point, I was looking for the nearest exit realizing why the man behind me had his wounds. He was obviously always looking for a fight. Luckily, the little man did not challenge this ball of anger and silently went to the back of the line. I could almost feel the heat of rage bouncing off this man and onto my back. I thought to myself "I should just leave - what if this man has a gun and the cashier tells him they are out of sour cream or the man with the long nails accidentally brushes up against him and scratches him with his talons." But I was hungry. So, I stayed against my better judgement. My stomach is clearly stronger (and bigger) than my brain. Nothing ended up happening, but, thinking back, I should have listened to my fear and left. A rice and bean bowl is not worth putting myself in danger. I do have to admit it tasted pretty darn good when I ate it though. I think adrenaline makes things taste better than they actually are.