I Could Eat a Buffalo if there were Enough Mustard

I’m hungry. Maybe nearing starved. I can tell because my tummy is growling and my fat rolls aren’t fighting each other for more room. It’s the kind of hungry you don’t want to go shopping while having. Because you might go in for eggs, or cereal but you walk out with 3 cakes, a feast for 7, random munchie grub like potato chips or sundried tomato and basil crackers and cheese in a can. I don’t even like cheese in a can. But I’m hungry! And the cheese in a can is calling to me. Well, it would be. If I were to go shopping while hungry.

We have a Subway in town. It’s a small town. Subway is kind of a big deal. It’s such a big deal that every time I’ve gone, except for twice, I’ve run into other customers. I know. Scary. Quick prediction? It will fold in a another year. Honestly, at the times I’ve gone, I should run into way more “other” customers. But see, we’re in one of the fattest states in the nation. Top 5, I think. Who says we don’t have ambition? So, next to our greasy Sonic, greasy McDonalds, greasy Mazzio’s Pizza, greasy Mexican restaurant whose name escapes me, greasy Daylight Donuts, and greasy Dairy Diner, poor Subway really doesn’t stand a chance. I think there is one other restaurant, too, but I haven’t tried it. Looks too greasy. Heh.

But Subway. Back to Subway. I went there last night and got the best sammich ever! The lady doubled up on the veggies. I usually have to tell them, but she did it all on her own. I don’t know that people usually want a lot of veggies on their sammiches around here so I felt extra special that she just knew. Maybe it was the look in my eyes. Maybe it was the grease seeping out of my pores and she took mercy. All I know is that… I love her. I love her for her sammich makin’ skills.

But I’m still hungry. And a sammich doesn’t quite sound like a desirable morning meal. And I can’t go shopping just yet because I really don’t want cheese in a can. I would come home with it, you know. I can just tell. So, I’ll just distract myself until the hunger subsides. Drink a glass a milk, then go to town with a responsible tummy and purpose in mind. Sometimes you just have to outwit the hungry goomies. Because God knows how many times they’ve outwitted you.

Rumble, rumble.