I've Always Heard Mayonnaise Is Good for Your Hair
I don't eat mayonnaise. I fear it. It's gross.
I didn't always feel this way, but one Friday during high school (Fridays were always hamburger days at my high school), I saw mayonnaise take a form that I could have lived my whole life without seeing. I believe it was Jeffrey who opened the little white plastic packet. He ripped the corner off and tilted it toward the open-face burger. When he squeezed out the contents, all of us at the table gasped in horror. It was a lumpy glob of yellow mess that should not exist on this planet. It was half-curdled, half-liquid slime. It was mayo gone incredibly, very, wrongly bad.
Not where I meant to go. Sorry.
Anyway... Cole, Mom, Gran and I had Easter lunch yesterday at the Hyde Park Bar and Grill in South Austin. I love their peach pudding, but after a yummy lunch of southern-friend chicken breast, sesame green beans and their famous fries, I simply didn't have room for dessert. None of us did.
I guess many people, like us, opted not to mess the kitchen to prepare an Easter lunch, and instead went out to dine. The restaurant was very busy, and after about a 30-minute wait, we were seated at the door of the kitchen. The open door of the kitchen, back in the corner by the bar. Fine. I usually don't like to watch what happens in there and would have normally asked for another table, but they were packed and I didn't want to be that customer at such a busy time.
The thing about sitting at the kitchen door is that you do (get to?) see what goes on in there and what comes out of there. Waiters and waitresses with empty glasses stacked 20 high; managers bustling around with brooms; beautiful plates of buttermilk pie.
There were three waitresses on duty along with several waiters. Two of the girls had shoulder-length hair about like mine -- one was curly and dark brown, the other was flipped a little in the back with some blonde streaks -- and the third had long, dark hair up in a pony tail. I'm sure your mind has created a mental picture of one of those girls just by the description of her hair. Now picture this: carrying a large tray of food on her right hand, balanced on her right shoulder. Then she turns her head to the left.
That's all I have to say about that...
I didn't always feel this way, but one Friday during high school (Fridays were always hamburger days at my high school), I saw mayonnaise take a form that I could have lived my whole life without seeing. I believe it was Jeffrey who opened the little white plastic packet. He ripped the corner off and tilted it toward the open-face burger. When he squeezed out the contents, all of us at the table gasped in horror. It was a lumpy glob of yellow mess that should not exist on this planet. It was half-curdled, half-liquid slime. It was mayo gone incredibly, very, wrongly bad.
Not where I meant to go. Sorry.
Anyway... Cole, Mom, Gran and I had Easter lunch yesterday at the Hyde Park Bar and Grill in South Austin. I love their peach pudding, but after a yummy lunch of southern-friend chicken breast, sesame green beans and their famous fries, I simply didn't have room for dessert. None of us did.
I guess many people, like us, opted not to mess the kitchen to prepare an Easter lunch, and instead went out to dine. The restaurant was very busy, and after about a 30-minute wait, we were seated at the door of the kitchen. The open door of the kitchen, back in the corner by the bar. Fine. I usually don't like to watch what happens in there and would have normally asked for another table, but they were packed and I didn't want to be that customer at such a busy time.
The thing about sitting at the kitchen door is that you do (get to?) see what goes on in there and what comes out of there. Waiters and waitresses with empty glasses stacked 20 high; managers bustling around with brooms; beautiful plates of buttermilk pie.
There were three waitresses on duty along with several waiters. Two of the girls had shoulder-length hair about like mine -- one was curly and dark brown, the other was flipped a little in the back with some blonde streaks -- and the third had long, dark hair up in a pony tail. I'm sure your mind has created a mental picture of one of those girls just by the description of her hair. Now picture this: carrying a large tray of food on her right hand, balanced on her right shoulder. Then she turns her head to the left.
That's all I have to say about that...
posted by Summer at
3:11 PM
2 Comments:
The 7yo was convinced the best way to celebrate Easter would be to visit our local Mexican restaurant. Despite the fact that our dinner was already prepared [by me, the night before] and waiting at home.
Sigh. A prophet has no respect in his own home....
By
lcreekmo, at April 09, 2007 9:10 PM
Ew. To mayonnaise and chick's hair in my food. Nasty.
By
Anonymous, at April 10, 2007 12:13 PM
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