That Dog WON'T Hunt

Most of us agree about what a fiasco Covid was. No matter what side of the fence your belief lies on we can all agree that it was a huge inconvenience. It seems these days that the extension of Covid had far reaching affects in that it has built a strange reality in this country with the heading and the mentality that "everything can wait." Once the pause button is pushed in this country there are always going to be those that will want to do it again. You can call that whatever you like folks but it's nothing more than an excuse for people to shuck their responsibilities at every available opportunity. It's essentially an excuse to put off the inevitability of life. Take the advice of someone who has lived awhile, that's ill advised. No matter if you vote blue, red, or even purple life won't wait forever.

CASE in point. There is a Mexican restaurant not too far from my home that I used to frequent pretty often, that is until that fateful day when they let me know (accidentally on purpose) what they were made of. In this place I usually order things like fajitas, which is usually pretty stellar grub. I noted during the whole Covid phase of the country their quality went down, and their prices went up. This is to say that the tortillas were no longer homemade, and the quality of the shredded cheese suffered somewhat. I gave them a pass at the time because I realized they were just trying to keep their heads above water. This seemed like a fair tradeoff at the time. However, after the country got back to being right-side-up the quality of the food continued to suffer. Then the prices went back up AGAIN, and this time the price increase was sizeable. This was NOT acceptable to me.

And then they committed the unpardonable sin, they tried to serve me fake sour cream. That is not happening my friends. They brought me what I call a fixings plate for fajitas that consisted of shredded cheese, Pico, guacamole, and something they were trying to pass off as real sour cream. I cannot even begin to imagine what it is actually made of, maybe tofu or something even more vile than that. All I know is it was cold, white, and fairly disgusting. I am never the guy who refuses to eat food or to pay for it, but that day I did both. And before I left, I let them know what I thought about it and that they had lost my business for good. I finished my Dr. Pepper (which by the mercy of God) cannot be screwed up, paid what was left of the bill, and left skid marks in their parking lot never to return.

My wife regularly gives me grief over being a food snob. But I am not asking to be fed caviar while setting on a cushy diamond studded throne, I only ask that my food be REAL food. I also have no problem pointing out that margarine is NOT real food. They attempt to serve it to me just about everywhere I go but I will refuse it at every turn. You can put a dollop of margarine or a packet of Sweet & Low on an ant dent and they won't eat it because it's not real food, it's nothing more than chemicals. Does this make insects smarter than humans? That argument could probably be made in a court of law and likely it would be sustained. Margerine is nothing more than a mass of yellow goo that is just barely digestible and by no means real food. It always amazes me that people in the food industry are able to market cuisine with the word "SPREADABLE." This is to say that they are telling the masses that eating should never be a struggle. Tell that to a lioness the next time you see her chasing a gazelle. The point in time when we no longer have to struggle for our food is when we became fat and lazy, enter today.

It could be that restaurants in general have gone to hell in a hand basket. It's about 5am here and I just took a break to get breakfast at Waffle House. Now understandably any time we choose to eat at WH we should always have some idea what we are in for. The food is never high cuisine, it's just grub. The distinction being that grub is simply made exclusively to accomplish one task, to fill the void, which it does well. The help are usually X-cons, the restrooms usually look like a murder had just taken place there, and the menu is foolproof even for a drunk because there are pictures of the food so all you have to do is point and grunt. You don't even have to know how to speak English. However, the food is usually high quality up to a point. But today I am sorry to announce that there was something off about the hash browns. Anytime we bite into anything made of potatoes that is getting ready to go bad there is little room for doubt. Oh well, there is always tomorrow.