R. and I met after morning sessions and strolled through exhibits and chatted. I stopped by the booth to switch shifts with A. so I could see Hope Olson’s talk in the afternoon which meant early lunch on a tight clock which meant that salad bar again. The food court is named Savor. Nope. Company was good though. 

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I was staring at my phone wondering what I was going to do for lunch when C. DMed me on twitter: What are you doing for lunch? Eating at the convention center food court with you!

I was done with my talk and K. was in the building so we met upstairs in the cafeteria and I had the discount salad bar, K. was right that the proteins were better at the other counter. I was really happy to be done.

Pizza day! Pizza day is the best. What makes pizza day at camp such a revelation? It’s not like I haven’t eaten pizza before. But pizza before an afternoon sail, maybe that’s something entirely different.

The neverending breakfast lunch dinner buffet of camp was already wearing on me, thought I’d combat it by restricting lunch to the salad bar. What could go wrong? And why does overabundance make me eat so fast? Is there a cultural history of the buffet that’s worth reading?

I was so hungry by the time lunch rolled around even though I’d eaten about a dozen eggs and two hashers of bacon for breakfast that I inhaled a sandwich and a dinner plate’s worth of salad in about six seconds. Must have been the morning stroll to the riding barn.

I think I couldn’t have known without experiencing it first hand that the best approach to lunch would not be to get in the line and wait. Really the best idea is to let the line clear out, then go in with just the dribs and drabs getting seconds. I ate with everybody out at a table in the back, wasps everywhere. Whether you were freaked out or not by the wasps seemed to depend entirely on how much time you’d spent eating outside as a youth.