Tuesday, May 11, 2004

Man vs. Food

My well-fabled gluttony (I've been thrown out of two 'all you can eat' buffets) took a blow to its ego at lunch today. Only time will tell if it was ravages of age, or if it was just an off day. As it was 'Double Stamp Tuesday' our venue of choice in the Cheese Steak Shop. I come in and get my regular order: 'Large Bacon Cheese Steak, onions no peppers, extra large portion of meat, mayo on the roll.' This time though, I add 'Please make sure I get the extra meat this time.'

When I receive my cheese steak all looks normal. As usual I follow my procedure of shoving all the meat into the side of the bun, so as to attain maximal meat to cheese density. I've not taken but three bites, (well the procedure is a bit more complicated than a bite, it involves forks, short sleeves, and a blast radius of about 2 feet), I know something is wrong. I'm already feeling full! Me! I take these things down like pez. This should be but a snack to me, before my nightly feast of Prime Rib. I look around at my companions, and whisper, 'I think this one will defeat me guys.'

However, I venture back into fray, and continue to work on that half of the cheese steak. As I am methodically plowing through it, my elbow slips off the table. I look down, and the grease and fat from the cheese steak had dripped down my arm onto the table and onto the floor, forming a grease puddle the size of a small pancake.

Astonished I look at the paper of the tray. Completely transparent. I lift up the platter, another puddle of grease had formed below that.

Now this place usually is greasy, as that is part of the charm of the place, but this was phenomenal. I now understood what had befallen me. Sparked and re-ignited by this affront, I tear into the the remaining part of the half I was holding, and started in on the other half. That half of course, had been sitting in this grease and had for the most part had the integrity of tissue paper. Soon my platter was a crime scene of bun pieces and gristle, swimming in a mixture of mayo, fat and mustard.

But, alas, all my valiant efforts were for naught, as I just couldn't finish off those last two bites. I look up at Chris and say, 'Let's get out of here. It beat me, Chris, it beat me.'

And now I sit here arm still slick with grease, my heart pumping little spikes of pain, remembering my glory days.


Blogger ratty said...

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9:13 AM  

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