I've had some stomach issues lately. I promise to spare you all the details of the how and the why, because you really don't want to hear that, I know. But, needless to say, my list of eatable foods has decreased dramatically, limited mostly to apple-based products (sauce, juice, whole fruit), saltines, bread, and turkey. Everything else is a gamble.
Saturday night at work, I get hungry. It was time for my meal break, and I was feeling adventurous, partly because I was sick of eating applesauce and turkey sandwiches, and also partly because the hospital cafeteria was out of both turkey and apples. I happen to also like roast beef a lot, and I figured it couldn't be that much worse than turkey...and it's all the cafeteria had. So I got it. Made me a roast beef sandwich with a little lettuce, and I even threw on some cheese, because I like to live on the edge like that.
It tasted good enough, really it did. Only about three or four small bites into the sandwich, I notice it has The Sheen. (No relation to Charlie or Martin.) You know, that curious mother-of-pearl sheen deli meat gets. I don't think you're supposed to eat anything that looks like your favorite brooch, you know?
I stopped eating The Sheen. But I still paid well for those three or four bites.
Watch out for The Sheen. (No, not Charlie or Martin.)
No comments:
Post a Comment