The SO if off jammin’ with his band and I am preparing an employee review for a guy who won’t last another week, when I get a craving for mashed potatoes.
After playing musical cars in the driveway for ten minutes, I head on over to Boston Market. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one heading to Boston Market. All of Staten Island was as well. What would have taken me 6 minutes took a half an hour.
Rather than resort to screaming obscenities I spent the time deliberating what meat product I should have with my mashed. Last night we had meat loaf, so that’s out. Turkey sounds good.
I’ll spread the mashed on top of each piece of turkey. Hmmmm.
Then I’ll get corn and pour the sweet, crispy kernels over the mashed that’s spread over the turkey slices.
Eventually, I get there and end up having to park in Botswana.
T.J. Maxx was having a sale, of course.
Its 84 degrees and muggy as hell. I’m not a lover of the heat. Each day I go from my central air conditioned apartment to my air conditioned car to my air conditioned office and then the reverse. If I’m not working, I only leave the apartment in emergencies. You know, fire, flood, one of the cats has a case of gas as my husband gave them milk the day before or I get a craving for mashed potatoes.
I enter and unexpectedly I was the only one waiting to be served. I beat all of Staten Island to Boston Market!! The woman behind the counter asks me if I know what I want. I tell her to give me a minute, since I don’t want it to appear as though I had spent the last 45 minutes thinking about what I was going to have for lunch. I study the menu above her head for a minute or two.
I place my order. Turkey (white meat) with two sides. She turns to get my divided plastic dish, tells the meat slicer lady what I want and asks me what sides I want.
“Mashed and corn!” I say a bit too loudly.
“We’re out of mashed” she replies
:smack:
“What did you say?”
“I’m sorry, we’re out of mashed”
“But that’s why I came here. How long until they are ready?”
And here I thought I beat all of Staten Island to Boston Market. All of Staten Island beat me.
“You don’t understand.” she said condescendingly “We have none. No mashed potatoes. At all.”
Had I not been devastated I would have slapped her.
I select my substitute. Five pieces of spiral pasta in a yellow liquid resembling soup.
$8.75 and a walk back to Botswana later, I’m in the car. Out of the corner of my eye I see a KFC. Hallelujah. I’ll get the mashed potatoes there. Blah in comparison to Boston Market but beggars can’t be choosers.
All told it took ten minutes to go around the block since a blind woman was doing 4 MPH, searching for some nonexsistant parking space on a one lane (in each direction) street.
Once there I figured since I’m there I would order coleslaw as well. I can not be in a KFC and not order coleslaw. $4.74.
$13.49 for lunch for one person. A 30 minute trip back home.
The turkey was cold. The corn had too much pepper. The macaroni wasn’t fully cooked. The coleslaw container popped open and spilled in the bag.
I ate the mashed potatoes. The cats ate the rest.
