green tea black (m)

Weird day today, food-wise.

First, I was a guest lecturer at the business school of a university in New Hampshire.  Took me two hours to get there with traffic.  Arrived in time for lunch with one of the professors, an Asian man, whose English was--dare I say--not so good.  We schlepped about a mile to the cafeteria (I forgot what a walking culture campuses are and how great distances are billed as "just next door").  Got to the cafeteria and climbed up three flights of stairs.  I felt like James Caan's character in the movie Misery.  Hobbled.  My knees were screaming with pain.  Dr. Z, the professor, sweeps his hands across the room at the food stations and says "so many choices here."  He's not kidding.  There's an omelette station, a stir-fry station, a salad bar the length of a city block, a hot food station, a dessert station, a make your own sandwich bar, a yogurt machine...even a bar with spices...A1, jalapeno sauce, ketchup, six types of mustards and on and on.  My head was spinning.  I was overwhelmed especially since I have a 6-meal repertoire these days (including breakfast, lunch and dinner).  I had a boring salad which looked downright exotic next to Dr. Z's meal...a huge platter of steamed green beans.  He hunkered over his plate and smacked his food loudly.  We were joined by the Associate Dean of the University and the Dean of the Marketing Department.  By the looks on their faces, I could tell they had never shared a meal with the fine Dr. Z.

After the presentation, I stayed for Q&A and headed home.  Called my neighbor, J, whose son just had major hip surgery.  Can I get you anything at the grocery store? I asked.  J names a few high-fiber products because her son is constipated from the anesthesia (another reason for me to postpone my surgery.  I don't need to be retaining anything).  I get the goods and go to her house.  She lets me in to see her son, T, who is bedridden, his leg in a cast-like device that is quietly moving his hip up and down.  As enamored as I was with that machine, I was fascinated by what he was eating.  Celery, stuffed with peanut butter and a line of raisins.  "Ants on a log" is what my neighbor J said it was.  My stomach was growling but even I couldn't do that.  It looked so real.  I'm still traumatized from eating a bug in South Africa.

Later that evening, while H was skating, I went to Dunkin' Donuts for a green tea.  A simple green tea.  Again, communication with the staff was a challenge.  I got H's bagel for after skating and his Tropicana Coolata.  Took ten minutes to get that straight with the guy behind the counter.  Then I order my medium green tea.  "Small?"  No, medium.  "Large?"  No, MEDIUM.  Black?  No GREEN.   Then he points to all the teas they have, about 5 different kinds.  "What kind?"  GREEN!  Seriously, is this guy mentally impaired, hard of hearing or both?  "Okay, green.  Black?"  Basically, he was asking if I took my green tea without milk or wanted it with milk. 

I sat in the car, exhausted from that interaction and sipped my drink and reflected upon a plate of green beans, ants on a log and a simple cup of green tea.

Could go for a pizza right about now.