Dear reader, I am sorry to have let you hang out to dry. I have a perfectly good reason. I was hungry, did I mention that? Having identified the three dishes on offer in the in-house canteen i quickly made up my mind to wander off-grid. Yes, I did visit that joint, again. No, I will still not tell you where it’s at. That’s for me to know and you to find out. Only, I hope you don’t. Why? Well, once you find it you will understand.
The tricky thing is the making of a decision. Choice is overrated, if you ask me. There is so much tastiness in the world (or in this joint anyway) and so little lunch breaks. So, though I am loath to divulge more, I am inclined to share some of my insights. It just feels right, you know? So, anyway, this is how i handle it. I don’t.
Makes any sense?
It goes like this; the best way to make an important decision…is not to make it. Yes, I know dice is all the rage this season, and sure, if that tickles your fancy, don’t let me stop you. As for me, I do it differently. You want to know how?
You really want to know how I found serenity and inner peace? Ok, since you are twisting my arm, I’ll tell you. I…close my eyes and point finger. Wherever I end up pointing becomes ordered down the tubes, and yes, it is always satisfactory. There is one obvious drawback though. I can never be a foodis bloggie. Why? Well, I never know what I ordered, and the plates, though always delicious, are never tell-tale.
So, there you have it. I hope you do not think any less of me for it. I mean, a girl has got to have her vices, no?
Regardless, this is mine. And how I cherish it. Even telling you here like this, as if at a regular joe meet-up, makes my hair tingle, and my palate awake.
There is something absolutely ravishing about the way this place smells, don’t you agree? Like fresh cucumbers, vanilla and black dahlias, yes? I have no idea where that smells emanates from, only that at five o’clock sharp each Tuesday and every third Friday this place smells like heaven. If I could bottle that I would be rich, no two bits about it.
But I digress, we are not here to talk about my vices. If you care for those, check out my other socials. ThePlacestory.tumblr.com is a good place to start.
We are here because although we all seem to have made it pass the initial hoops, something has stuck us all here, yes? We cannot progress, and we cannot back out. So my unlycky brethren, a pickle, yes? I suggest we do something about it. There is always something one can do about it, or so said my oncle, and although long since decesead he should know. He practically wrote the manual for such situations. And I abide by that. So, let us scheme, let out steam, and bankroll this whole hot mess we’re in. Can I get an Amen to that?
(To be continued)
The tricky thing is the making of a decision. Choice is overrated, if you ask me. There is so much tastiness in the world (or in this joint anyway) and so little lunch breaks. So, though I am loath to divulge more, I am inclined to share some of my insights. It just feels right, you know? So, anyway, this is how i handle it. I don’t.
Makes any sense?
It goes like this; the best way to make an important decision…is not to make it. Yes, I know dice is all the rage this season, and sure, if that tickles your fancy, don’t let me stop you. As for me, I do it differently. You want to know how?
You really want to know how I found serenity and inner peace? Ok, since you are twisting my arm, I’ll tell you. I…close my eyes and point finger. Wherever I end up pointing becomes ordered down the tubes, and yes, it is always satisfactory. There is one obvious drawback though. I can never be a foodis bloggie. Why? Well, I never know what I ordered, and the plates, though always delicious, are never tell-tale.
So, there you have it. I hope you do not think any less of me for it. I mean, a girl has got to have her vices, no?
Regardless, this is mine. And how I cherish it. Even telling you here like this, as if at a regular joe meet-up, makes my hair tingle, and my palate awake.
There is something absolutely ravishing about the way this place smells, don’t you agree? Like fresh cucumbers, vanilla and black dahlias, yes? I have no idea where that smells emanates from, only that at five o’clock sharp each Tuesday and every third Friday this place smells like heaven. If I could bottle that I would be rich, no two bits about it.
But I digress, we are not here to talk about my vices. If you care for those, check out my other socials. ThePlacestory.tumblr.com is a good place to start.
We are here because although we all seem to have made it pass the initial hoops, something has stuck us all here, yes? We cannot progress, and we cannot back out. So my unlycky brethren, a pickle, yes? I suggest we do something about it. There is always something one can do about it, or so said my oncle, and although long since decesead he should know. He practically wrote the manual for such situations. And I abide by that. So, let us scheme, let out steam, and bankroll this whole hot mess we’re in. Can I get an Amen to that?
(To be continued)
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