Lunchtime

Usually during my hour lunch break, I watch the TV show I'm secretly addicted to that I missed the night before because I don't want Sam to know what dumb shows I like. I do this online at my desk because people always put up videos of TV shows less than 6 hours after they air. I have no idea how they do this. Where do you get a copy of the video of a TV show so quickly? I understand if you are the network posting the video, but individuals do it all the time too. It is beyond me. Anyway, I'm going to admit to you my daily dose of TV: Monday night is Chuck which means I watch it on Tuesday afternoon, Tuesday night is My Boys so I watch it Wednesday (you get the idea), Wednesday night is Lost and Scrubs, and Thursday night is The Office (Scrubs ends up getting watched late, i.e. on Friday afternoon I watch the two half hour shows). If you notice, this leaves me with a free Monday lunch break because nothing I love airs on Sunday. So I usually hang out in my car and read classic literature (to offset the TV) for an hour.

This Monday, or if you would like to refer to it as yesterday, I went to Carl's Jr. for a salad. Their commercials boast of large, green, crispy salads and that sounded so delicious. When I got there, they had two options, a taco salad and a chicken salad. I wanted the chicken salad but in the taco salad shell. I asked the lady at the drive through if that was possible. Simple question, right? Ha. The woman said she could do a taco salad with chicken. I didn't want the salsa, hot sauce, sour cream, etc. that comes with a taco salad. So I said, no, can you do a chicken salad in a taco bowl? If not, just tell me. The woman said she could do a taco salad with only chicken, lettuce, and cheese. I sighed internally and agreed because I really wanted that taco shell. Then I asked what kinds of dressing they had. She named them all and I picked one and then ordered a small drink and fries. She asked me what size. I said, again, small. Finally, the woman gave me my total and I pulled forward. When I got to the window and she handed me my food, I asked for fry sauce. She sighed (externally) and handed me some. And then, just to put the finishing touch on my obnoxiousness, I asked for an extra dressing packet. Dude, the look that woman gave me! She either had already spit in my salad and was wishing she had poisoned it, or she was regretting the fact that my salad was in my hands and not able to be spit upon any longer.

The salad was a sad looking pile of limp, thinly shredded iceburg with a couple of chicken pieces and a small clump of cheese in a taco shell bowl. I ate it proudly.