BLT, fries, and a shake, plus donut apps

There was a plate of hot donuts to snack on while we waited. L.’s face after the first long draw on the milkshake was the one I first fell for, all bliss. The fries were Platonic fries, covered in flake salt and hot. When we got up to leave, L. had to sidle sideways past the table of pinched lovers eating eggs with their Sunday Times. Hope they enjoy their huevass rancheros I cracked, which got an enormous laugh on our walk through the market on the way to the train. Nice recommendation, S.

 

Egg and cheese on a roll with fries and pancakes

We left the shelter cat-and-puppy-free and stopped at the Gemini diner for food and coffee. D. wanted pancakes but not only pancakes, so we ordered some for sharing. I got an egg and cheese on a roll, and L. and D. each ordered omelettes. I was feeling pretty sadsack about my cats of days gone by, so was glad for D.’s drunken mariachi band jury duty story and L. sitting right next to me.

 

Grilled cheese on rye with tomato and fries

I picked up L. and R. at the hotel and walked us across the street to the Naturally Healthy Health Food Restaurant and Deli which turned out not to be a health food restaurant at all, though you could order a baked potato. R. had oatmeal with strawberries and L. and I each had the grilled cheese with tomato and fries. R. kept doing that thing little kids do, blowing on his food to cool it off except that he couldn’t muster much of a breeze. The spoon was so much bigger than he was. Being four must be like being on acid said L. as R. wiped his hand across the table, stared at it, and then put something invisible in his mouth and started chewing. If you’d told me this time last week that I’d be splitting (heavily buttered) bread with L. before Annual, I would’ve said you were crazy. Guess I just got lucky.

 

Grilled cheese and fries, plus beets and pickles

L. hopped over from the alumni relations office and picked me up and we walked downstairs and across the street and got grilled cheese sandwiches at Junior’s. Can you believe I’ve been working here for over year and still haven’t gotten more than a bagel there? L. was astounded. Along with the breadbasket (cornbread!) they bring you a dish of pickled beets and a dish of halved pickles on top of coleslaw for nibbling. I could eat a thousand beets I said, shoveling, as L. stuck with the pickles. The day started with accidentally throwing my lunch away in the garbage can (where it will surely join the personal copy of 60 Stories I once dazedly watched myself dump down the library book drop). L.’s helpful camping tips and cheerful agreement on the virtues of well-therapized directness in office communication has it on the up and up.

 

Turkey burger plus fries

It’s always when I’ve got some totally embarrassing rock music turned up super-loud and I’m walking along stepping hard to the drums, full-to-bursting with self-righteous anger, if only you knew how totally right I am (about some finer point of office policy) that I get startled by a low-flying pigeon in the crosswalk (on my way to the burger place) or my shirt gets stuck on a broken part of a chainlink fence on the sidewalk (on the way back). Still, dude, how long has it been since you listened to Appetite for Destruction? Rocks.

 

Salmon burger, fries, and a glass of wine

I thought my face might break open when we finally got our table, right by the window. I nearly came apart with the pleasure of the view. All the reviews called it a tourist trap, but in my old age I’m increasingly drawn to those–xox traps. The 95th floor! L. and I could see miles of coastline, the unfurling city, patches of sailboats, rooftop pools. The ferris wheel that had loomed so large from the banks of the Chicago river was all Katamari from way up there.

 

Avocado melt plus salad and fries

Everything new was old again as S. expressed such a strong desire to eat at the place where B. and I ate yesterday that I simply could not say no. Wanting to mix things up a bit, I sat at the same table, in the same exact chair, and ordered the avocado sandwich, but as a melt. Instead of mozzarella, it comes hot and with provolone. Provolone, I recently learned, is just old mozzarella! A classification professor of mine once told me that if you can’t diagram it, you can’t think it, and that’s sort of how I felt about my time warp of a lunch date. Apart from all that, that was about as spot-on a building bridges, making linkages lunch as I have had in my professional life so far. I left the table having nodded and said yes yes I know exactly what you mean! so many times I lost count. S. has me looking awfully forward to the fall.

 

Chicken tenders, fries, and a Miller Lite

I considered the (relatively) healthful deli sandwiches. Really, I did. But I was won over by the blaring Fan Favorites! sign over the burgers ‘n’ fries ‘n’ cokes ‘n’ shakes counter and opted for the chicken tenders and fries meal deal instead. Why not go with a favorite? People had been hawking nine dollar bottles of Bud Light up and down our section all afternoon, so the six buck Miller Lite felt like a downright bargain. (I didn’t need the souvenir cup; I flippin’ hate the Yankees. It’s like pulling for Philip Morris, or capitalism. But when you live here and want to spend an afternoon at the ‘local ballpark,’ it’s sometimes Yankee stadium, what can you do.) I ate and watched the players scurry about the bases, I think a side was retired, I turned to S. at one point and said, I always forget how much more I like this game after I’ve had a beer.

 

Ham and avocado sandwich, plus fries

I opted for a table inside after just a minute at an outside table. There was no way I could read a few pages and daydream with those voices droning away. I don’t care where you parked your car. Seriously. I ate as fast as I could and then measured my spirits against the map and headed out walking in what turned out to be a very long, very material demonstration of one of my father’s maxims: consistent effort in a single direction, and eventually you’ll get where you’re going. Sometimes you dead end in a mobile home park, sure, but you do get there eventually.

 

Chicken sandwich, fries, and a beer

I needed that beer, even more than I needed the sandwich. It’s exhausting, touring number five of the top seven forgotten natural wonders of the world. L. and I made our way up a big hill and my body autopiloted us to one of the casino restaurants. I worried that we weren’t outside, or perched atop the falls at an all-you-can-eat buffet, but L. noted that we were playing on a theme–tufted seats. They’re everywhere we go, somehow. We ate and drank and talked about what we saw and what we looked forward to seeing and watched Canadian sports television and I was too shy to admit that what I really wanted for dessert was some nickel slots play so I pretended i just wanted to use the bathroom–in the casino. I managed to wrench L. inside and we magically left with the five Canadian dollars L. gamely donated to the cause. That is so unbelievably rare, to walk out with the money you came in with I marvelled. Well said L., voice of reason,  you’re with me.