Today for Lunch

Dear Rhett,

Two weeks of hanging out with my childhood friends have left me suffering from mild kidney pain and acute poverty. Though still several months shy of my 30th year, I just can’t seem to binge drink the way I used to — and not for lack of trying.

I mention my struggles with alcohol not to highlight yet another deficiency of my character, but rather to explain away the sad state of my pocketbook. I didn’t even want to risk a trip to the supermarket this weekend in the interest of avoiding the discomfort I’d feel should my debit card be declined. Weeks like this are the reason I keep the pantry well-stocked. I feel no qualms about spinning my circumstances when talking with Tara. I’m not too poor to buy meat. I’m interested in exploring vegetarian options. Hello lentil soup and meatless spaghetti.

The only problem with my approach is that I didn’t have any emergency lunch fixings kicking around. I’d planned on eating a week-old couscous I’d left in the fridge at work last week, but when I opened it up, the stench of rotting Merguez nearly knocked me over. It appeared I’d have to chance having my card declined at one of the NE’s many fast food restaurants. Not exactly an enticing lunch option.

I ended up in the drive-through at Wendy’s on 32nd Avenue. I ordered a Spicy Chicken combo with regular size fries and a Coke. The clerk then asked what size I wanted. I glanced at the menu board to ensure I was using the correct terminology and then specified that I had meant medium when I said regular. I just assumed that would be understood. I promise to hold fast food personnel to a lower standard in the future.

Regardless of this woman’s stupidity, I promptly received my food, passed my card through the window and punched in my PIN. I made sure the car was in gear, and as soon as I handed it back to her, I hit the gas. I’m still not sure if the transaction was approved or not. I don’t really care.

Full either way,
Brendan

Dear Rhett,

Even though I don’t especially care for warm weather, I feel like it behooves me as a Calgarian to go outside and enjoy it on the rare days it appears. When I was less mobile, this would take the form of walks around the neighborhood, maybe as far as the Tim Horton’s on 32 Avenue for a mediocre sandwich and cup of bittersweet coffee. Now that wheels have expanded my range, I opted to go for a drive.

I ended up heading towards the Inter-Faith Furniture barn, which lies halfway between the office and my house. I popped in on the off chance they were selling something I absolutely had to have. Nothing really caught my fancy, though I did pick up some Mason jars that might end up being re-purposed for our wedding in one way or another. Despite the lack of bounty, I ended up spending more time there than I’d planned on, and had to pick something up to bring back to the office.

I swung by Cedars Deli on Edmonton Trail. Standing in line (and there is always a line), I waffled between getting a Shawarma or a Falafel sandwich, when the man in front of me casually asked for a Cornerstone on whole wheat. I was flabbergasted. I didn’t even know this was an option, nevermind what it was made of.

I watched with great interest as the sweaty middle-eastern server crushed a falafel ball onto the open pita before scooping Shawarma meat on top of it. It was a revelation. No longer was I limited to either/or. I could have both, in one magical pita sandwich.

When he raised his head and asked me what I wanted, it was a no-brainer.

“I’ll have what he’s having.”

Dear Rhett,

Ever since I bought that truck, I’ve been real lazy about riding my bike to work. There’s always some semblance of a reason that keeps me from pedaling in (today I told myself I’d be riding if not for a much-needed trip to the pet store to buy dog food) but if I’m being honest with you, the real reason is that I’m celebrating my new-found freedom from the cafeteria’s pseudo-food.

You probably won’t be surprised by how quickly I got accustomed to picking up real food for lunch. At first, I’d only do so when I was already out and about thrifting, but now lunch has become the main event.

Take today, for instance. While I did pop into the Mennonite Thrift Shop briefly, my real destination was Basil, a Vietnamese place on 32nd Ave NE that Tara reviewed a while back.

I got a marinated meatball sub that tasted nothing like the Subway version that I’m sure you’re thinking about. I briefly thought about eating in the restaurant but then decided against it because I was alone and didn’t want to feel like a loser. Instead I brought it back to my desk and felt like a loser anyway. Such is life.

At any rate, I fear that I’m rambling. Just thought you might be curious as to what I had today for lunch.

Warm regards,
Brendan

Rhett,

I can’t believe it’s May already. Looks like we’ve missed an entire month of lunches. So much mediocrity unremarked upon… so many sorrowful binges without even a silent witness. It’s making me feel as if an unexamined lunch is not worth eating.

Now that I’ve got a vehicle of my own, I feel less tethered to my desk. I went thrifting yesterday just to get out of the office. It reminded me of the handful of times you joined me in scouring the second hand stores for whatever junk caught my fancy. There wasn’t much yesterday.

I realized that I’d wasted most of my lunch hour without actually eating anything, so I walked across the parking lot from the Salvation Army and got a Turkey Ranch and Swiss sub from Quiznos. I half recall us going to a downtown food court location years ago when you were on the way out at Zoom. I’ve never been a huge fan of toasted subs, but for a snowy Spring afternoon it seemed like just the thing. I ate it in a hurry so I could make a 1 o’clock meeting.

Best,
Brendan

Hey Rhett,

Even though I brought some leftover Deep Dish Pizza for lunch, I ended up going to the Sunridge food court just to get out of the office. It seems too early in the week to be having a day like this, but there’s not much to be done about it. It made me wonder if it was possible to be seasonally depressed in the springtime. If so, what does that say about me? I prefer it when the landscape is grey and barren? If spring can’t cheer me up, what can?

Hint: it’s not shitty fast food. I opted for The Works from New York Fries. I don’t know if you’ve ever made it out to the east coast, but if you order fries with the works in Prince Edward Island, it actually means something. Don’t be fooled by the definitive article — The Works at New York Fries is pretty gross. Wilted vegetables and a sour cream to chili ratio that definitely favoured the former.

One thing that really bothered me about the meal was the placemat exhorting me to become their friend on Facebook or follow them on Twitter. I know you’re more of a social media guy than I am, but I couldn’t conceive of what possible reason I would have for friending a fry shop. It seems like social networks are going the way of the postal service — once a powerful network connecting disparate communities, increasingly used as a coupon delivery device. Kind of depressing.

Hope you’re having a happier day than I am,
Brendan

Hey Rhett,

It’s too cold in the offices here to really get my juices flowing. It’s not like when we worked at Marketwire. The aroma of earnings periods and browser-based MMOGs still burns my nostrils. You called it your geek stink. But I digress.

I made a pasta dish with a ragu of tiny meatballs last night and had tons leftover for today. It was really good. I’m glad I brought a lunch instead of going for shawarmas with Jackson and Chris. I’ve been trying to wrap-up a big project that I’ve been working on for a few weeks now and it was really helpful to just work between bites. I feel like a different person than I was in my Tribal Wars days. I wonder what happened to me.

Not terribly concerned,
Brendan

Rhett,

While you’ve been binge-drinking in Texas, I’ve been working with my nose to the grindstone. Ever since the axe came down a couple weeks back, things have gotten kind of hectic around the office. You don’t need me to tell you that it’s had a detrimental effect on my correspondence.

At any rate, I like the sound of the that taco shack you mention. Hell, I like the sound of Austin period. I’d like to go someday. This may explain my craving for Tex-Mex cuisine. While I imagine your Mexican breakfast was a lot more authentic than the quesadilla I got from the cafeteria today, mine came with some kind of corn salsa in it which elevated it from mediocre to adequate. This is as close as a rave review as Bytes is ever likely to get.

Speaking of which, there’s a new girl working there in the kitchen who talks to me more than I’d prefer. Sometimes I don’t want to talk about my order, I just want to order. Does that make me a prick? I don’t think so.

Straight-forwardly,
Brendan

Hey Rhett,

As a Facebook friend and former work acquaintance, you may or may not know that today was my birthday. In honour of this momentous occasion, I decided to take the day off and bask in the glory of my 29th year.

I’d like to tell you that I slept in, but since I wanted to borrow Tara’s car for the day I had to drop her off at work for 8:30am. On my way home, I decided to take Edmonton Trail rather than Center Street — the lane reversal nonsense stresses me out. On my way past my former digs, I decided that a nice breakfast at Diner Deluxe would be just the thing for a birthday celebration.

I went in and grabbed a table for one and a copy of FFWD Weekly before ordering a cup of coffee and a Fried Egg Sandwich with Chorizo Sausage. I was excited to see this on the menu, because it’s not offered on weekends, when I’m most frequently there. It was massive and delicious. By the time I was done, I was painfully full.

It was so much food that I didn’t eat again until Tara took me out to dinner at 7:30pm. I know it’s not technically a lunch, but it’s all I’ve got for you today.

I hope you’re not too disappointed,
Brendan

Hey Rhett,

As I mentioned in my last post, even after digging out a meal’s worth of cold Mac ‘n’ Cheese from my tub o’ pasta, there was still plenty leftover for today’s lunch.

Let me say at the outset, doubling down on lunches is not something I generally like to do. Although I am in many ways a creature of habit, I nevertheless feel the need to vary my meals throughout the week. Your steady diet of sandwiches and pickles, while admirable in terms of fiscal responsibility, is simply not something I’m capable of doing.

Having said that, when the lunching hour came, I reached for the now two-day old pasta. It seemed too good to waste, especially now that I’d made the commitment to reheating it. I grabbed it out of the mini-fridge, popped it in the microwave and took it back to my desk. Things have been kind of busy around the office of late and I ended up writing between bites. I’m glad I didn’t waste a brand new meal on a working lunch.

Best regards,
Brendan

Hey Rhett,

As my father was fond of saying, you don’t need my help to make you look like an asshole. You do a fine job on your own.

Though I can’t say I share your fear of sushi, for many years I did. I learned the hard way that this is one food you probably don’t want to buy from the cheap bin at the Superstore. Cold raw fish is a little less sketchy when prepared at the hands of a master chef. Cold macaroni, on the other hand (even when expertly prepared) will never be truly enjoyable. This is the takeaway from today’s lunch.

The problem was that I made an obscene amount of homemade mac ‘n’ cheese on Sunday night. I ended up bringing in a huge Tupperware container that contained more than enough food for today’s lunch and the next day’s. But it seemed like kind of a hassle to try and track down a bowl I could scoop half of the pasta into for microwaving purposes. And as I’ve previously mentioned, the weakness of the office microwaves meant nuking the whole amount would be both a waste of time and a source of anxiety for me. My solution? I took it to my desk and ate it one congealed cheese clump at a time.

There’s still plenty left for tomorrow. I may reheat it then.

Best,
Brendan