Just came back from coordinating the monthly dinner lecture series with my work. I've become great friends with the lead server at the dinner club named Solomon. Tonight he came up to me at the end and whispered in my ear,
"Tai, we have some left over food, do you want it?"
I'm not even sure why I asked this but I did
"What kind of food?" (as if it mattered)
"Cake, ..."
I interrupt by moaning in agreement"
"Chicken"
"Yes, I'll take it"
So at the end of the night he hands me a bag of food. When I got home I intercepted John about to heat up some microwave thing and popped open with bag
Box number one: FULL OF CAKE (ABOUT TEN SLICES)
Box number two: full of chicken and veggies
BOX NUMBER THREE: FULL OF CAKE (ABOUT TEN SLICES)
NEED I SAY MORE?
I'm going to try hard not to make this blog the life and food intake of tai john and little fetal mother teresa, but I couldn't help but highlight how awesome it is that Solomon gave me two boxes of cake because it assumes that I somehow can and will handle the cake with grace and ease in a timely manner.
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