Published by admin on 24 Mar 2011
My new office is conveniently located down the hall from one of my grad school friends and his partner (business, not life, not that there’s anything wrong with life, just they’re hetero…. oh, how they’re hetero) and we lunch on occasion. The new office building is kind of rad because we get a different lunch truck every day, and I don’t know if this is a nation-wide trend, but in LA, the food truck situation is bananas. Now, some days this is good, because there will be a fantastic truck with tasty food, and other days we are stuck with the “French fry truck.” Which is just that. A truck that serves French fries. With toppings. No protein. While I’m not turning my nose up at French fries per se, I am turning my nose up at the idea of eating only French fries for lunch.
Today was the No Tomatoes truck, which is a dumb name for an Indian food truck, but whatever I love me some Indian food. So Waller and I got our lunches and went back to his office to lunch with Mike. Mike unpacked his salad and we all marveled at his salad making prowess. There was steamed asparagus (double points because asparagus is actually in season right now!) and grilled chicken, (that he grilled! himself!) tomatoes, and peppers and it was a real “Look at this Fucking Salad” moment.
Waller proceeded to mock me and tell me to take a picture of the “fucking salad” for my blog. And I proceeded to tell him that no one wanted me to post a picture of a fucking salad on my blog. Especially since this blog is all about my ‘feelings’ and my period (according to Waller) and I had no way to relate a picture of a fucking salad to either of those things.
Then Mike pulled out his fucking salad dressing and that’s when I could have somehow tied in this dumb blog and my feelings because the fucking salad dressing was some kind of ridiculously named Trader Joe’s brand - Goddess Dressing. Whatever the fuck that is. I mean really. If a salad dressing has 120 calories and 12 grams of fat per serving, I’m not prepared to associate it with a higher being. It better taste good and be calorie and fat free if I’m higher powering that shit.
Mike ate his fucking salad, and Waller and I ate our delicious Indian wrap thingies (with NO TOMATOES!) and we talked about their dumb idea* that will probably make a jillion youtube dollars for them. Or if nothing else make them a hundredaire. And in the end, I wish I had a dumb picture of that fucking salad so I could end this post with it. But I don’t.
I do imagine that Mike will one day repeat his culinary feat. And you can bet I will not be so stupid as to pass up taking a picture of it.
*Their idea is not actually dumb, it is just not appealing to me. And they know this, and yet, they torture me every time I eat lunch with them by telling me their story ideas. And even though I try to be nice, they see through me, and this is why I like them. Also, one time they made me watch an episode of Archer, which they were sure I was going to love. And I did not. And we talk a lot about that these days too. Mostly, my lunches with them consist of me being a horrible guest in their office. I cannot believe they invite me back.