I’ve been writing posts, and saving them as drafts—not quite sure what to say or write about here. They’ve mostly waxed philosophical. It feels like a very serious time in my life.
But that’s not what I want to perpetuate, here, right now, this very minute.
Instead, let me tell you about the moment earlier in the week in which I found myself eating two grilled cheese sandwiches. So, Beth brings in a red velvet cake, which is perfect and funny because I was too involved making my first cheesecake the night before to pack myself a lunch. (I didn’t bring in the cheesecake for fear it would be awful, but it turned out to be very impressive in flavor and given that it was all whisk and elbow grease; no electric mixer involved.) And I think to myself, I’ll go buy a cup of coffee at the cafe across the commons to go with this cake, and I ask Beth if she would like anything, and she offers instead to join me. Along the way we run into my friend Evan, who is meeting his friend, whose name I’ve already forgotten (sorry, buddy; in this post you’ll be known as, the tall, polite friend of a friend—a title so verbose that we’ll just shorten it back to buddy). I order a cup of coffee, and I’m swayed by the grilled cheese sandwich on the menu—because someone must have raised some part of me correctly enough to not identify coffee and cake as a meal—which is a little costly for a grilled cheese sandwich, but whatever; one pays for the convenience of not having to make it oneself. I don’t think I’ve ever, not once in my entire life, gone through a whole loaf of sliced bread on my own. At this point, I’m hunting for mold even on the first time I re-open the bag. Only, when my order is ready, there are two full grilled cheese sandwiches on the counter, raring to go. And I turn to Beth, but Beth has ordered a burrito. And I turn to Evan and his buddy, but neither of them have ordered a grilled cheese sandwich.
So I take both sandwiches back to the office with me. At which point, this story turns into full speculation—I am still not sure I haven’t stolen someone else’s sandwich. Beth and our officemate Dawn recognize the barista as a very friendly, giving server, the kind of person of whom you might expect a freebie every now and again. And Evan posited that perhaps the barista was hitting on me. The world will never know.
But the grilled cheese sandwiches were delicious, both of them.
I was too full, in the end, between them and the coffee to try the cake I had planned my entire lunch around.