This evening, after a long, draining week at work, I desired nothing but to sit on my couch, Pandora in the background, dogs in my lap... maybe my laptop there instead and doglets snuggled next to me. Some wine would make for an evening of working on my book (have I mentioned I'm writing a book), an evening of quiet and calm. An evening alone. John and I don't spend every day together. As he goes back to school and I work on a book proposal, sometimes a night with just the pets and an internet connection is necessary.
Tonight is that night.
My kitchen is extraordinarily empty. I buy very little at the grocery store - just what I need for the week. Often I only buy food for breakfast and lunch and then make plans with John for dinner. But tonight, my night alone, I needed a plan for me. Nothing along the lines of a restaurant fit the bill. I found myself at HEB seeking bananas, wine, and something for dinner that would make my banana-wine purchase seem less strange and/or depressing.
I decided a fancy sandwich sounded good. For some reason, "cured meats" has some hilarious connotation for me, and that's exactly what I wanted... something in the vein of Jersey Mike's. I stood at the deli waiting to be helped, looking over the selection before me, planning my sandwich of wonder.
"Can I help you?"
"Yes, I'd like 2 slices of hard salami, cappocola, prosciutto, and the Boar's Head mozzarella on 1 please."
She just looked at me.
Two slices each. This is obviously not the normal order, but what am I to do with bulk slicing of deli meats? I eat sandwiches exceptionally infrequently.
Begrudgingly and painfully slowly to show her displeasure in such a nominal order, the woman collected my requests and began slicing them.
2 slices of hard salami - 56 cents. :)
What I wanted to say is, yes, I'm alone. Yes, I'm at the deli making a sandwich for one. yes, I realize that in the grand scheme of things I made you no money, but I want a single sandwich, and I shouldn't be forced to purchase cured meats in bulk so that I can have one sandwich.
Quit staring. Quit judging. Give me my meat.