Showing posts with label food service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food service. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dare I say...better than Jimmie Johns?

I'm at the office and I got really hungry having only had a smoothie for breakfast...so out I head, looking for food. Taco bell is so tired, McDonald's grosses me out, there's nothing for me at Outback and I didn't want the work involved in buying my lunch at the grocery store. I decided to grab a slice or even a small pizza at Bellagio's right near the post office. I walked in, braced myself that they might not have slices this late in the afternoon, accepted that I might pay $10 for a small pizza and waited...and waited...and waited...and walked out. If they didn't want to help me, I certainly didn't have any more time to wait. A bell rang when I walked in, and I didn't want to yell into the kitchen.

So I walked to the sub shop next door. Subs, despite my early morning affection for Subway (I unexpectedly love an egg sub), are not my favorite food. They are so often done badly that I just don't trust sub shops. That said, like pizza (damn you Bellagios!), done right, a sub can be perfection itself. Thus was my experience at Big Town Hero. How delicious! The bread was crusty, but soft and available in white, whole wheat or onion - yes, I said it and I ate it, onion bread. And they combined mayo and cream cheese on my sandwich - the most delicious condiment creation I've been wanting without knowing all my life.

I started writing my boyfriend about this, but when it turned into a rhapsody, I decided to post it here. I expect all he really wants to know is what and where. What: best sub EVER. Where: Big Town Hero.

Friday, August 17, 2007

All Dressed Up and No Where To Go

I look great. My hair is freshly cut and colored, my face made up dramatically. Sexy clothes, all in black. No, I'm not going to the nightclub, but planned on going to my catering job. In fact, went to my catering job. And was sent home because the expected party of 300 tanked with less than 20 people arriving in the first hour. Since I rode in with E and A was at a movie, I had to take public transit home and now I find myself looking good and feeling bad.

These kinds of things throw me into a funk and I get pissy at the world. And then I decide that I'm not going to be pissy and instead I'm going to productive. On the train, I planned all the things I would do - get into some comfy clothes, walk the dog then work on my side project until I'm tired then either watch a movie or read before having an early sleep. Then I got home, sat in front of the computer and can't seem to get myself going. I could have toted drinks and spoken to the class of 1997 all night, but now that I'm home, I can't get off my increasingly fat ass even to take off this incredibly uncomfortable but very sexy bra.

I hope anyone reading this is laughing, because I am - I'm being more than a little melodramatic. Hyperbole just comes easily to me, especially in this state of mind. I am pretty pissy and very annoyed at the place of business though. For about 2 minutes, I fantasized about posting a Craigslist rant about the bar I was working at and their bad business practices, such as how they encourage the servers to "push alcohol," but then I realized that if found, they would easily figure out that the server who got sent home was probably the one who wrote it. If they didn't sue me for slander, they would at least fire me. And even though I don't want to work there anymore due to the shoddy management, poor execution and unenjoyable coworkers, I don't want that to be their decision.

Maybe I better take a bunch of deep breaths and listen to the chanting CDs before E gets off (yes, she's working there, too and yes, it's that bar) and A calls after his movie since I am really good at channeling my frustration and irritation onto other people when it's really nothing more than a bad situation that I'm struggling to deal with. I think run-on sentences, when said aloud, just fuel one's annoyance and bitchy attitude too. Maybe it's the lack of oxygen from speaking continually. I find myself holding my breath even when typing long sentences. Maybe that's how non-violent communication works. Short sentences such as such as 'I see,' 'I feel,' 'I need' and 'I would like' allow much more breathing. Maybe it'll help to take the bra off too.