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how dinner becomes a Thing

I really wanted Chinese for dinner tonight. This happens about once a year, if that. I almost never want Chinese. Mostly because we used to eat it about once a week for lunch at the office (back when I was eating in instead of going home for lunch) and I got very tired of it, but also because I just don't like it as much as a lot of people do, and it tends to be one of those easy default options. Thus, I usually end up having eaten it recently enough to not get to the point of actually wanting it.

Anyway, Empire Szechuan up the street from my office doesn't do delivery. I couldn't go pick up an order because of the dizziness. I tried bribing John to do it for me and failed.

I asked John where he orders from. He told me, and added that they're really good at making things spicy. For me and my New England taste buds, that is not exactly a selling point. I looked in the phone book, and they didn't even have a phone listing, let alone a menu. While I could of course get the number online, I really wanted to look at the menu. Sure, all Chinese restaurants serve the same things... except sometimes they don't. Besides, I like to see the numbers before I order. The ones on the right, not the ones on the left. So either I needed to order blindly from a place that might be too spicy, or find one with a menu in the phone book. Or online.

At about this point, I recognized that I was making a Thing out of something simple. It's too late to be reasonable, once I start making arbitrary rules about the utterly insignificant. So I heated up a frozen dinner instead. If I still want Chinese tomorrow, I can try again then.

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collacentaur
Sep. 4th, 2010 02:14 pm (UTC)
Changing meds.
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