On work days I have been eating at the gas station. First I told my coworker Adrianna and now I feel comfortable sharing that here. There are no excuses for it. The new neighborhood has good alternatives to the gas station- spots for tacos and sandwiches, pie and coffee for five bucks, etc. I’m not saving any money- I am a sloth. The gas station saves me seventeen more minutes in the apartment. Now that it only takes me ten / fifteen minutes to get to work that means I don’t have to leave apartment until after 2pm. The Texas grapefruit is part of my determination to break the cycle.
That was a Saturday to remember. The restaurant was packed when I got in at 2:30, full and wild. A couple was spooning at one table, at two thirty in the afternoon. The line was out the door. Throughout the evening seemingly all the regular customers came by as well as many coworkers and their families. At the peak of the dinner rush we got hit by VIPs- I waited on chef Anne Burrell of the crazy hair and Lady Gaga ate cochinita pibil in the Morales room. The last table finally sat down sometime after we closed. I stayed until 1am and talked about the uncertainty of love with my friend- her past with a cheating singer in Chicago and possible future with a man in San Antonio.
Texas grapefruit – sweet and yet sour. Hope you’re cruising.