Disclaimer: What follows is a hypersensationalized, hyperdramatized, and hyperfictionalized (though all based on a much more boring true story) account of hunger during the lunch hour at work. Names have been removed to protect the not-so-innocent. Although it seems like the entire story takes place over a period of hours, actual time spent searching for food lasted less than an actual lunch hour (lasting approximately 15 minutes).
Backstory: a few weeks ago, my entire division at work was moved across the parking lot and onto the ~garden level~ of a nearby building with an acronym I have given up on learning because I don't want to ask my go-to Know It All what it means for the 506th time.I may know the acronym and the name of the building, but am lying to you for dramatic effect. I have a theory that the building was vacant before we got there, because I have not seen a single person other than (1) those of us on the ~garden level~, (2) the gatekeeper in the main lobby, and (3) the quiet ones who scurry about on the top floor at the slightest hint of a human's presence. There are no windows on the ~garden level~ because, underground. I'm lying about the top floor. They seem like perfectly nice and normal introverts.
Anyway, we're all on the ~garden level~ because our old area is being renovated for the next century to make room for Fab Collab spaces. Luckily, we all get along, but there have been some adjustments to make. For example, it's "frowned upon" to stand on our desks at noon and scream "food fight" now. In addition, we've had to make do without a real cafeteria in the same building where we work, and the parking lot that stands between the ~garden level~ and our old building is about the size of the Atlantic Ocean (five minutes walking time). This distance combined with "sunshine" and "weather patterns" makes it impossible to ever go to the cafeteria, so we just resign ourselves to starve on the ~garden level~.
Well, being that food is my main vice outside of wine and Yankee Candle, I obviously couldn't allow myself to starve for even one day. Plus, I think food is a macguffin we can all believe in. And so that brings me to our story for today.
It started off like any normal day. I forgot my lunch, got in my car, started my audiobook about otherwise unremarkable pseudo-alcoholics making poor decisions (a la Girl on the Train), made my 1.5 hour commute to work through the cornfields, and wandered back into the ~garden level~. The key here is the part where I forgot my lunch. Remember, no cafeteria in the ~garden level~ building and a journey across the parking lot and into the other building so long that I "can't even."
But Ryan, aren't there restaurants in the vicinity? Not the point. Okay, kind of the point.
You see, Craig does not currently have a show, so I currently have a social life. Craig doesn't allow me to "sit" and "read" or "watch Netflix" or "stare at the wall" for "8 hours" - not when there is a world to see and experience outside in the weather. As a result, I've been spending money like I have two more jobs. This, combined with my tendency toward buying books and candles, has basically resulted in me not having money to spend without threat of divorce from my husband.
And so, dear readers, Ryan did not have money to spend at a restaurant for food because Ryan still has yet to learn about "budgeting."
My first unreasonable response to this food shortage was to eat a Hershey bar I had at my desk. I thought to myself, "I will just eat this chocolate and drink a ton of water - it'll be like a real meal. I'll call it a supermodel diet." Wrong. Naturally, within ten minutes I was reflecting on the good life I had, trying to make amends with everyone in my life, preparing for the end. Then I remembered that I frequently throw coins on the floorboard whenever someone tries to hand me back change that isn't paper, and decided that I could try scavenging for coins instead of expiring early. I figured that if I had coins, I could find a vending machine somewhere and consume something of substance. SPOILER ALERT: I was wrong. ~foreshadow~
I brought someone with me on the journey so I wouldn't get lost. The building is two stories with abasement ~garden level~ and the parking lot is right outside the door, so the likelihood of someone as fake adult as me going missing is high. This decision was fortunate, considering that I could only find two quarters and a dime in my car and the person I brought was kind enough to not call it like he saw it (aka calling me a peasant) and instead made a very healthy donation to my cause, bringing the total amount of coins I had in my possession from $0.60 to $2.20. Triumphant, it was time to find this vending machine.
Upon my arrival to the third floor, I found not just a vending machine, but the Utopia of vending machines (Foodtopia). I mean, IT LOOKED LIKE A CONVENIENCE STORE. I had to pinch myself. AND GOSH DID IT HURT, but I knew it was real. And so I grabbed my "big" bag of Gardetto's and walked to the kiosk to pay for my nutrients. Then: betrayal. The machine only accepted cash or cards - there was no coin slot. Defeated, I crumbled to the floor and crawled back to the elevator, the world in sepia tones.
I took the elevator back down to the ~garden level~, accepting my fate and returning to my desk, because seven minutes of looking for food on my lunch break was really all I could handle. I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, tumbleweeds throwing me this way and that. Then – like a mirage in the Sahara – like a lighthouse shining through the storm – like Bradley Cooper massaging your feet while simultaneously feeding you a Krispy Kreme donut – there it was: a GLORIOUS SPREAD OF 2+ HOUR LEFTOVER ROOM TEMPERATURE SCRAPS OF FOOD. I laughed maniacally, going out of my way to shove innocent though curious and perhaps concerned bystanders (“people walking in the general vicinity”) through windows and onto the floor (disclaimer: no one was injured or shoved in the discovery of this food, only in the writing of this blog).
As I approached the smorgasbord of leftover food, I asked my companion (the one with all the coins), "Can we take these things?"
And, just as I counted on, he nodded knowingly and began to dish up his own healthy helping of room temperature cuisine. Elated, I made myself a roast beef and American cheese sandwich with stale, sandy bread and ladled myself a spoonful of dry pasta salad. I wanted a warm sandwich and the best part was I didn't even have to heat it up. I had a moment where I almost threw my plate onto the ground when a supervisor approached, willing to blame my comrade if need be. But then she too ladled pasta salad onto a plate, and we were all joyous.
And then we ate - OH, HOW WE ATE.
Thank you for reading this latest ridiculous entry. It's been over a month since my last post, but there's a good reason for it: I have been plotting a new special topics "column" for the blog, and I am really excited to share it all with you very soon. Since starting (ryan)vention, I've struggled with coming up with regular content on a regular schedule. This new bi-weekly series of entries will help to provide you with regular quality content. Here's a small preview:
I first explored the concepts of identity and experience as a gay person in a heteronormative society as an undergrad at Illinois College in an unpublished short creative nonfiction piece entitled Boys Will Be Boys, but I always saw that short piece as becoming something larger as my own experiences grew. For this reason, I never pursued publishing the shorter piece.
A passion project, this special topics series in (ryan)vention - Boys Will Be Boys - is a continuing larger work that serves to debunk misconceptions and explore identity, stereotypes, traditions, and expression of the gay experience, from the perspective of a same-sex oriented person who has often been on the periphery of gay culture.
I am very excited to explore these topics soon. Thank you for being constantly supportive, dear readers.
With the best intentions,
Ryan
Backstory: a few weeks ago, my entire division at work was moved across the parking lot and onto the ~garden level~ of a nearby building with an acronym I have given up on learning because I don't want to ask my go-to Know It All what it means for the 506th time.
Anyway, we're all on the ~garden level~ because our old area is being renovated for the next century to make room for Fab Collab spaces. Luckily, we all get along, but there have been some adjustments to make. For example, it's "frowned upon" to stand on our desks at noon and scream "food fight" now. In addition, we've had to make do without a real cafeteria in the same building where we work, and the parking lot that stands between the ~garden level~ and our old building is about the size of the Atlantic Ocean (five minutes walking time). This distance combined with "sunshine" and "weather patterns" makes it impossible to ever go to the cafeteria, so we just resign ourselves to starve on the ~garden level~.
Well, being that food is my main vice outside of wine and Yankee Candle, I obviously couldn't allow myself to starve for even one day. Plus, I think food is a macguffin we can all believe in. And so that brings me to our story for today.
It started off like any normal day. I forgot my lunch, got in my car, started my audiobook about otherwise unremarkable pseudo-alcoholics making poor decisions (a la Girl on the Train), made my 1.5 hour commute to work through the cornfields, and wandered back into the ~garden level~. The key here is the part where I forgot my lunch. Remember, no cafeteria in the ~garden level~ building and a journey across the parking lot and into the other building so long that I "can't even."
But Ryan, aren't there restaurants in the vicinity? Not the point. Okay, kind of the point.
You see, Craig does not currently have a show, so I currently have a social life. Craig doesn't allow me to "sit" and "read" or "watch Netflix" or "stare at the wall" for "8 hours" - not when there is a world to see and experience outside in the weather. As a result, I've been spending money like I have two more jobs. This, combined with my tendency toward buying books and candles, has basically resulted in me not having money to spend without threat of divorce from my husband.
And so, dear readers, Ryan did not have money to spend at a restaurant for food because Ryan still has yet to learn about "budgeting."
My first unreasonable response to this food shortage was to eat a Hershey bar I had at my desk. I thought to myself, "I will just eat this chocolate and drink a ton of water - it'll be like a real meal. I'll call it a supermodel diet." Wrong. Naturally, within ten minutes I was reflecting on the good life I had, trying to make amends with everyone in my life, preparing for the end. Then I remembered that I frequently throw coins on the floorboard whenever someone tries to hand me back change that isn't paper, and decided that I could try scavenging for coins instead of expiring early. I figured that if I had coins, I could find a vending machine somewhere and consume something of substance. SPOILER ALERT: I was wrong. ~foreshadow~
I brought someone with me on the journey so I wouldn't get lost. The building is two stories with a
Upon my arrival to the third floor, I found not just a vending machine, but the Utopia of vending machines (Foodtopia). I mean, IT LOOKED LIKE A CONVENIENCE STORE. I had to pinch myself. AND GOSH DID IT HURT, but I knew it was real. And so I grabbed my "big" bag of Gardetto's and walked to the kiosk to pay for my nutrients. Then: betrayal. The machine only accepted cash or cards - there was no coin slot. Defeated, I crumbled to the floor and crawled back to the elevator, the world in sepia tones.
I took the elevator back down to the ~garden level~, accepting my fate and returning to my desk, because seven minutes of looking for food on my lunch break was really all I could handle. I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, tumbleweeds throwing me this way and that. Then – like a mirage in the Sahara – like a lighthouse shining through the storm – like Bradley Cooper massaging your feet while simultaneously feeding you a Krispy Kreme donut – there it was: a GLORIOUS SPREAD OF 2+ HOUR LEFTOVER ROOM TEMPERATURE SCRAPS OF FOOD. I laughed maniacally, going out of my way to shove innocent though curious and perhaps concerned bystanders (“people walking in the general vicinity”) through windows and onto the floor (disclaimer: no one was injured or shoved in the discovery of this food, only in the writing of this blog).
As I approached the smorgasbord of leftover food, I asked my companion (the one with all the coins), "Can we take these things?"
And, just as I counted on, he nodded knowingly and began to dish up his own healthy helping of room temperature cuisine. Elated, I made myself a roast beef and American cheese sandwich with stale, sandy bread and ladled myself a spoonful of dry pasta salad. I wanted a warm sandwich and the best part was I didn't even have to heat it up. I had a moment where I almost threw my plate onto the ground when a supervisor approached, willing to blame my comrade if need be. But then she too ladled pasta salad onto a plate, and we were all joyous.
And then we ate - OH, HOW WE ATE.
Thank you for reading this latest ridiculous entry. It's been over a month since my last post, but there's a good reason for it: I have been plotting a new special topics "column" for the blog, and I am really excited to share it all with you very soon. Since starting (ryan)vention, I've struggled with coming up with regular content on a regular schedule. This new bi-weekly series of entries will help to provide you with regular quality content. Here's a small preview:
I first explored the concepts of identity and experience as a gay person in a heteronormative society as an undergrad at Illinois College in an unpublished short creative nonfiction piece entitled Boys Will Be Boys, but I always saw that short piece as becoming something larger as my own experiences grew. For this reason, I never pursued publishing the shorter piece.
A passion project, this special topics series in (ryan)vention - Boys Will Be Boys - is a continuing larger work that serves to debunk misconceptions and explore identity, stereotypes, traditions, and expression of the gay experience, from the perspective of a same-sex oriented person who has often been on the periphery of gay culture.
I am very excited to explore these topics soon. Thank you for being constantly supportive, dear readers.
With the best intentions,
Ryan
No comments:
Post a Comment