Cafeteria
Categories: LifeFor lunch, I went to a K&S Cafeteria. I haven’t been to a cafeteria restaurant in years.
When I walked in the door of this restaurant, I was shocked at the poor upkeep. The first thing I noticed when I entered was the peeling wallpaper — everywhere, the dark blue wallpaper was curling up. Oh geez, I thought, what’s the sanitation grade of this place? I found the grade: A. OK, so they don’t grade on decor.
The second thing I noticed, as I walked through the maze for herding folks through the serving line, was the age of all the other customers. Of the more than 20 people in the line, I was definitely the youngest patron. I had forgotten that aspect/demographic of cafeteria dining.
Once up at the serving line, the food looked really good –- it was all very well presented. I checked out the menu board to see what the prices were like, and I saw something I’d never heard of before: telia, teleria, or something like that (“t” something “ia”). I had no clue what that was, but it was listed in the same section as beef and chicken.
As I ordered my beef tips over rice, I heard a woman a couple of people behind me order the t—ia thing. I watched over my shoulder to see what the server went for, but just my luck, the server had to retrieve some plates. So I had to move on forward without seeing the t—ia thing.
I settled on a huge slice of cheese cake. The thing was about three inches thick! It was all I could do to make myself eat all my lunch before taking a fork-full of this pie. . . cake? (It’s obviously a pie, but why do they call it cake? Nevermind. This is going into a really dumb comedy routine that I’m sure Gallagher or someone covered 20 years ago.)
I couldn’t finish the pie/cake, but I put in a good try.
Hmm. You know, this story . . . really is boring. Did I mention everyone in the restaurant was at least 20 years older than me? Yeah, I did. Did I mention the . . . yeah, I did. Damn.
OK, look. I’ll write something better tomorrow. This sucks. Damn. I thought this story would be interesting, but, crap, it’s not even mildly entertaining.
It’s pie! But it’s called a cake! Meh. I just can’t save this. There’s nothing interesting or funny about eating lunch at a K&S Cafeteria. It’s just kind of sad for a 41-year-old geeky professional.
Bullgrit
you could have done it on he people in the restaurant, that would have been interesting. you know they go there every day, and prolly order the same food. oh well….i going to read the death section now….
I used to eat at a caferteria a couple of times a week. I like ordering food I am looking at instead of reading names of the food on a menu. I also like not having a waitress hovering over me while I eat and talk.
Do you talk like you write? Do you tell stories like this and then loose it at the end? I’ve known people who talk about some completely boring subject, with a completely boring ending, but they never seem to realize the stories are boring. I think it’s really funny when you realize and admit your story is not going anywhere. I read one of your “posts from the past” about not having anything to write about, so I guess you have this situation come up sometimes. Do you write like that on purpose? It is a little funny if you do, but it is a lot funny if you don’t.
Ed
i must ask….who is telly? and welcome to the world of bullgrit….
Thanks for the comments.
EdMayors:
As for writing like I talk: my written language and grammar is better than my spoken language and grammar. I’m a writer, not a public speaker — plus I have time to think about what I write, even if it’s just a few seconds.
As for telling stories that turn out not interesting, it really only happens when writing this blog. After spending maybe half an hour (or a whole hour) writing something, I don’t want to have to delete it and think of something else and start all over. So you get the whole failure right to the end.
This doesn’t really happen in spoken conversations because I usually don’t “have the floor,” so to speak, for such an extended time. Personal conversations are back and forth affairs.
No one would ever come to hear me speak, but I’m happy that people apparently come to read my writing.