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blood sugar

i get really cranky when i’m hungry. if i had a diabetes blood sugar checker thing, i bet i could plot points on a graph when crank starts at “minimal” and sky-rockets into “intolerable”.
last night, against my better judgement, i went to the tavern to see my sweets, otherwise the whole day goes by and we don’t get to see each other. now, i say “against my better judgement” because i’ve really not been enjoying the company there lately. it’s not the same tavern that i used to hang out at… i guess that’s how things go.
anyway, i decided i didn’t want to eat dinner there; i was craving over-priced refried beans and tacos from tex tubb’s. at this point, i’m halfway between minimal and intolerable and i’m pretty hungry. i say my goodbyes and head out to unlock my bike. i just got this new lock which, despite it’s small size, is heavy and awkward to use. so, i wasn’t necessarily looking forward to dragging it up the street and locking up again, but i did it anyway. because food is a driving force.
i get to the restaurant, lock up, and notice two of the window seats are open before i go inside. i was looking forward to staring out the window at the pedestrians and cars, idly dipping chips in salsa while i waited for my blackened tilapia tacos, sipping on their (also overpriced) prickly pear margarita.
i got inside and saw a man being helped with his take out order ($34something was the total), the waitress sat the two bags on the bar in front of about 15 dirty glasses. there was a creepy old guy with his date at the far end of the bar, and i noticed the person closest to me had his uncased iphone5 just sitting on the bar, waiting to get broken or spilled on.
the ironically bearded bartender was there, sort of cleaning up, and they didn’t seem so very busy. i looked up to see a chalk-rendered picture of said bartender advertising the homemade margaritas and chuckled that the facial hair was so much shorter when the drawing was made.
a couple more waitresses walked past me, so i took off my headband and unzipped my coat to at least appear as tho i was there to stay. then, the bartender began clearing those dirty glasses and i thought, “hey, self, i should be sitting down right about now. why is he doing that instead?” i understand the desire for a clean bar, i do, but those glasses weren’t going anywhere.
which brings me to the almost intolerable point of my story. by this point, i had been standing in wait for just shy of three minutes. three minutes is an eternity for someone who has put this much thought into dinner and just wants to have it come true. three minutes.
the bartender finished up with the glasses and walked past me with a rag to clean off one of the tables in front. i counted backwards from seven. no one spoke to me or looked at me the entire time i was there.
i left.
i got outside and unlocked my unwieldy bike lock as i stared across the street at the alchemy’s outdoor sign and tried to see through all the red that had occurred in front of my eyes. what if i just go over there? no, those assholes put BACON on their fish sandwich (who does that?) and i’ve already unlocked. which means i have to put my lock in my bag, bike over there, lock it up again, and get disappointed when they screw up my order.
i can’t eat at wilson’s because the choices are minimal, and fried. i don’t want to deal with being a stranger at the harmony. i am too hungry and pissed off to make my own food.
so, after texting matt and expressing the point on the graph that i reached that i would classify as almost hulkish, he calmly suggested that i order glass nickel (again). it’s a constant, they never eff up, it’s pretty cheap for a big ol’ salad, and the delivery guys like us cuz we over tip.
so i placed my order online, and continued watching louie, which made me feel a little better, because his life is pretty sad.
i’m still debating a yelp review, but i’m not sure it’ll do much good. actually, in the last two seconds i decided to email them a link to this entry… maybe it’ll actually have an affect on something.