Today during lunchtime, my co-workers and I mingled around a food festival in our neighborhood called ‘The Taste of Fort Point Channel’ (here). Anyone who sees the industry-seeped Fort Point Channel on a daily basis must have thrown up in their mouths a little upon hearing of this unfortunately-named event.
Anyway, after getting jostled in a seething crowd of peckish office workers, I declined to actually have a taste of the Fort Point Channel, and retreated to my new lunchtime gem: the salad bar with real bacon bits!
At the salad bar, I built a foundation of baby spinach, then stacked a cruciferous mound of semi-raw broccoli and cauliflower. After tossing in a generous helping of grilled chicken, I honed in on the fixins’. I bypassed the Chinese noodles, the sunflower seeds, the croutons, and found… the bacon!
A woman stood behind me, waiting patiently as I completely covered my salad with a thick layer of bacon. She was watching me, and her eyes grew as wide as her zaftig rump as I sneaked in just one more tongful of bacon than most pork enthusiasts would find prudent before shifting to a nearby counter to pop the top on my salad container.
She then began prissily began piling raisins on top of her assortment of beans and cheddar cheese. And I couldn’t resist watching her, with the incredulous look of slightly-disgusted wonder: Raisins. Retch.
