BAGEL PLACE: Friday. As I waited for my breakfast bagel, I watched the young lady behind the counter knock a tupperware bowl onto the floor. They use these bowls to microwave their pre-cooked egg rectangles for my sandwich. You could write your name in the grease on the floor; you could make a sandwich from the rotten food getting kicked around down there. Yet there rolled the hapless tupperware.
I ask you, what should happen to that tupperware? And what do you think did happen?
She picked it up from the disgusting floor and placed it in the stack with the other tupperwares for the next unsuspecting bagel-diner.
What planet do I live on?
Wait. It gets worse.
He is one of the cooks, apron and all. As I walk past the open-view kitchen, I see him tossing some hamburgers on the grill.
Seinfeld fans… remember Poppy?
CHICKEN PLACE: Monday. As the very nice lady assembles my meal, she coughs into my container. Lady, just because it ain’t visible doesn’t mean it ain’t alive. A real cough aimed right at my food container.
C’mon! This is America! Land of the free and home of the lawsuit!
HOTEL LUNCH BUFFET, Sunday. Good spread. Good food. Margi brings back a plate from the very nice salad bar.
Hair and all.
Floss and eat in one step. Very smart.
FAST FOOD PLACE: Wednesday. A very hard working short order cook is packing and assembling orders at a super-fast rate. He is also sweating like a Gatorade commercial. The faster his head moves, the more his sweat flies. Beads of sweat sprinkle the partially assembled meals set before him.
I guess that keeps them moist.
Anybody wanna eat out with me?
When God says that “food is sanctified by prayer” (1 Tim 4:5), I hope that sanctified is Greek for microscopically purified.