Something to get out of the way: I reckon you may never find another person on God’s green earth who loves cream cheese as much or more than I do.
Knowing this, emotions will probably run even higher for the dear protagonist (that would be me.)
The other day* I got $9 in cash for taste-testing salsa because I work at the coolest university ever, and it only made sense that I spend all of it on food for the remainder of the week. So yesterday morning I headed downstairs to see what the vending machines had to offer.
As it turns out, vending machines don’t really offer that much. [And as an aside, the refrigerated vending machine had apples in it. Not in packaging. Just apples. I feel sad for people who buy apples out of vending machines.] But there was one delicious looking blueberry bagel with cream cheese, so I put my money in, watched it drop (my favorite part), and heated it up to bring upstairs and devour.
Bagels are the vehicle by which I get cream cheese into my system. To tell you the truth, I’m not sure I actually like bagels all that much, but as we know, I love me some cream cheese.
It only made sense, then, that I bagel up again this morning. It started out rough, with an enormous lack of sleep and a young man who cut me off on the road and then nearly hit a bicyclist (so maybe he was the one with an enormous lack of sleep), and I was certain some cream cheese would make it better. I grabbed my $1.25, headed down the stairs, and walked toward the refrigerated vending machine.
Unfortunately, nearly all the bagels had been eaten, and my options were asiago cheese or pizza. And since I am not 5, I opted for the asiago cheese bagel. As I watched the swirly twirly contraption spin around to drop my bagel down, I started thinking about how delicious it would be, warmed up, causing the tangy cream cheese to melt ever so slightly.
I grabbed it out of the machine, opened up the plastic packaging, slid the bagel out, and …
Okay, I think I need to take a minute here. I’m very upset.
Why I’m very upset: There was no cream cheese. None. As in, somebody figured anyone who would purchase a cheese bagel would not want to double cheese up and spread a healthy layer (or two) of cream cheese on it.
Dear Somebody: You were wrong.
Oh, sure, I could gag down the cream cheese-less half that had, you know, cheese all over it, but the bottom half of a cheese bagel is, well, plain. The embodiment of everything that could possibly disappoint a human being and the biggest problem with the cheese bagel.
Shadra said, ” … at least you have blog fodder now?” and that’s true. I’ve been experiencing a dry spell of low points (except for Monday evening when I tried to go for a run with three slices of Costco pizza in my stomach and ended up walking around town in running clothes, people zipping by in their cars, but that’s more pathetic than hilarious (unless, I suppose, you’re an onlooker)), so I suppose this was the universe’s way of providing for me something to write about.
Dear Universe: Really mean, man.
*Every time I see or hear or say “The other day,” it immediately launches that bear song into my mind. You know, “The other day (the other day) / I met a bear (I met a bear) / a great big bear (a great big bear) / with tennis shoes (with tennis shoes), etc. et cetera. Is this just a me thing?