Lunch Hour

My partner in crime at work is out for the morning so I was forced to fend for myself during lunch. I headed down to Corner Bakery for my usual ham and swiss panini - I am horribly unoriginal with food once I find something I like. I decided to shake it up a little (small steps) and get the half sandwich half cup of soup -> Wednesday - Sunday is baked potato which might be one of my favorite types of soup.

Turns out there was a terrorist sabotage attack on Corner Bakery's cup supply and most of the customers walked away with leaking sodas (damn those terrorists!). I was one of the chosen few who had a perfectly fine cup (I think I might sell it on eBay later) so was entertained throughout my meal watching group after group get downstairs only to realize their diet cokes were leaking all over their "I'm on vacation from the burbs" outfits.

Eventually a manager type guy started making rounds in the basement dining area asking how everyones food was and offering up replacement cups to anyone who hadn't trotted back upstairs for a new one already. At this point I have realized that while my coke is happily staying inside my cup, I think there might be lettuce mixed in with my green onions on the top of my soup. As he heads toward me with that look of "how are you doing today" inquiry plastered across his face, I debated whether or not to point out this obvious mixing of vegetables. But as he hit my table, smiled and joked with me about my souvenir cup I lost the nerve, figuring the more vegetable life in my diet the better.

Done with my meal, I headed up and out to hide under the awning from the sprinkles of rain that were dusting the Chicago streets while I smoked my after dinner cigarette. To me this act is almost up there with ritual, and I enjoy it immensely. As I tried to cup my burning ember away from the crowd and kept my respectable distance from the revolving door (Hey I may be a smoker but I am not a total asshole) I watched as the same manager type guy had to head out and extricate a homeless man from their outdoor seating. I overheard the manager call the homeless man "buddy", doubting that in any universe, simulated or not, those two would ever be "buddies".

With the rain stopped and my cigarette done, I headed back to the office. Dealt with two groups of people walking the wrong way on the sidewalk*. They must be from Europe. And headed into Staples were I bought 3 bottles of Elmer's glue, 3 boxes of 24 count crayons, and 4 folders. Do I need these things? No. But when you can buy 12 oz. of glue, 72 crayons, and 8 places to hold paper with a single dollar and get 45 cents back, it's a crime not to.

*There are certain rules when one decides to present themselves in public. One is that you walk on the right side of the sidewalk (as opposed to left) this way traffic can flow smoothly much like on the roads. Second is that when on an escalator - standers stand on the right so walkers can pass on the left, again much like driving. It is on my list of great annoyances when others in the world do not recognize these rules.