Drown me in shame and original syrup
The UC, the place I go to for some quality college cookin’, gives a moderate to yummy brunch on weekends. Yesterday morning I tumbled out of bed around 11:30 (early, I know) to get in on those maple-laden confections.
As I wait patiently in line, ogling the chocolate chip pancakes, the girl ahead of me is playing stupid with the tongs. How hard is it to slip the bottom clampy thing under a pancake, squeeze, transport to plate?
How fucking hard? Well, a challenge for her. Such a challenge, she asked the kind lady on the other side of the buffet thing to get it for her.
After this idiot cherry picks her pancakes, and I can’t conceal a scoff that she confusedly reacts to, she walks away with four of (what she thinks to be) the best pancakes that were in the tray.
I’m not picky, I don’t mind eating two of the next-best pancakes, but the idea that she was so particular about pancakes that looked almost identical to the others is exhausting, mainly because I waited for her perfection.
Okay, so she’s gone. I can get my two pancakes and bacon in peace. Okay, time to pour syrup inferentially labeled “original” onto my crowded plate.
Oh shit. She’s back. And she brought a cup. What’s she need a cup for? Milk and soda is back that-a-way. Wait, what’s she…oh my god.
This cup, though small, was filled to the top with syrup. Original syrup. My syrup. I scoffed again. (Oops.)
All that went through my mind is the ongoing cholesterol problem America faces.
As long as she didn’t leave the first pancake for you to eat. The first ones always suck. Our dining hall my last semester in the dorms was awesome, with the buffet style breakfast and occassional campus chef who’d make eggs and omelettes to order. Yummy. It always helped start my day on the best (food) forward.
your blogs are so descriptive…it’s like i’m there with you. you should think about doing this for a living….oh wait:)