After working at Facility Services this morning, Teddy and Danny took Beverly and me out to lunch. We went to El Pollo Cachuchon over on Green Street. I don't know how familiar you are with South Longview, but it is kind of the hood/ ghetto/ totes sketch. I had never eaten there before today because it looks like the type of place that gets shut down by the Health Inspector quite often. There are a lot of places on the "South Side" that I probably will never go unless someone takes me. I trust that someone who drags me to a sketchy place loved the food enough to visit again and again, and seeing as how they didn't die from food poisoning, it can't be that bad, right?
My chicken quesadilla was pretty delicious! The salsa was really good too! Plus, they make their own chips, which were tasty. I think I will be going back there! It freaked me out momentarily when the woman touched my tortilla to see what was inside and make sure it was mine, but I realized the pointlessness of asking her to get me one that had not been touched. I also ate chips after holding hands with Danny and Teddy to pray. That was kind of a stretch for me.
Three years ago, or even one year ago, I would never have done that. I don't know why I doubted my immune system so much, but I was quite the germaphobe! Some things are gross and unacceptable, but other things you just try to forget and hope for the best. That's one of two reasons I pray: to thank God for my food and to ask His blessing on it.
On the topic of food, let us flash back to sometime before Walle graduated. Back in the day, I would take naps from the time class ended until dinner. Unfortunately, when I first wake up, my filters, sensors, etc. take a long time to boot. One day, I went to dinner half-asleep. After sitting down in the seat directly across from Walle, I began to eat. I found a particularly curly curly fry that I wanted to keep until the end of my meal. I set that fry on the back side of my plate, close to Walle. Thinking I didn't want it, he grabbed my special curly fry! I began to pout and hit his hand. (Remember, my filter about what is socially acceptable was not yet turned on at this point.) So when someone at the table shouted to stab his hand and passed me a fork, I did. Unlike when God told Abraham not to kill his son Isaac, my hand made contact before I realized what I had done. As soon as the fork touched him, those filters kicked in! I immediately began to apologize! He had four little red dots on the back of his hand. But I'll tell you what, he never stole food off my plate after that..... Consider yourselves warned! I don't like when people take my food!
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