Elan Morgan is a writer and web designer who works from Elan.Works, a designer and editor at GenderAvenger, and a speaker who has spoken across North America. They believe in and work to grow both personal and professional quality, genuine community, and meaningful content online.

My Lunch And Why It Was Less Than Good

I am presently eating a vegetable stirfry with extra vegetables. The guy at the counter said What would you like?, and I said I would like broccoli, carrots, bell peppers, baby corn, onions, and more broccoli, and then he went ahead and gave me broccoli, carrots, carrots, baby corn, carrots, one piece of celery, carrots, 3 strips of bell pepper, carrots, and no onions, because he was talking to this man who was a professor of Philosophy who could not decide if the szechuan sauce was quite right or if he wanted his stirfry with the orange ginger sauce.

Professor Of Philosophy actually had patches on the elbows of his corduroy jacket.

And then the man on the other side of me started yelling in Chinese with a woman behind the counter. I have nothing against Chinese, but I do have a lot against having a stranger yell in my ear, and they did that until it was too late to tell Stirfry Cook that I was going to turn orange from a beta-carotene overdose if he did not pay more attention to me.

I have been sitting here eating nothing but carrots out of this thing, because I want to even out the vegetable ratio before I start consuming the other stuff and the yummy egg noodles. The carrots are bitter, and they hurt the roof of my mouth where it swelled up from sleeping with my mouth open all night. I must fall asleep with my mouth open when I fall asleep right after sex, because I am the sort who goes OH. MY. GAWD. THATWasgood. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz, and it never fails that sex in the evening is followed by Swollen Mouth Roof Syndrome in the morning.

So, now that I have eaten approximately a hundred carrot slices, I am almost too full to start on the bulk of the stirfry, which is finally looking palatable. If any of my organs fail from a Vitamin A overdose, I am gunning for Professor Of Philosophy. I know Stirfry Cook is really at fault for not paying attention, but he at least smiled at me. Professor Of Philosophy just stood there in his stupid elbow patches taste-testing sauces from tiny spoons with his pinky finger in the air.

The End.

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