Okay, I got a tip about a good sandwich. Got the tip about a month ago. Maybe more. Work got in the way and I did not get to Fast Gourmet to eat a chivito. Ack. I admit that I did not know what a chivito was until about two years ago. And then, then, then, I went to NYC, coerced a friend, I love her so, into joining me, and traveled, the old-fashioned way, no departicularizing and reparticularizing, we took the subway, to Queens for what had become legendary to me, the chivito.
Okay, had I just taken my sweet time, sat around in DC waiting for the world to come to us, waiting, tick, tick, tick, torture, tap, tap, tap, torture, refresh, refresh, refresh, torture, the chivito would and did eventually come. The rapture! Oh!
Okay, I am rhapsodizing about a fantasy. I have not eaten the chivito at Fast Gourmet. And, arrgh, there was a big story in the paper about it today. Not that anyone reads the paper anyway. Well, you think they don’t and then you wonder where all the sheeplike mobs got their info. Baaa baaaa baaaa. Okay, I admit it, I am one as well. The wooliest, baaingest sheep of them all.
Reuben and I had plans to go to Fast Gourmet yesterday but the state of the air got in our way. Observant subway rider that he is, Reuben had told me this:
“Someone on the metro was going on about one of the sandwiches.. how good it was, and how ironic that such a good sandwich was served out of a gas station.”
So, um, okay, it was killing me. Killing me.
Then this from Suit-Yourself-Cindy:
“Did you see the story about Fast Gourmet in the Post today? It’s a good article. It’s run by two brothers and they sound very down to earth. Freya poured nail polish all over the back seat of the car today. I love her so.”
Okay, back to why I have not been there. My son would not be caught dead with a bottle of nail polish in his sphere. He pours books like “Soul Eater” and mounds of crinkly cellophane wrappers and deep red sticky beverages all over the back seat. I love him so.
Gotta get my ego on and get myself to the trendiest sandwich spot in this town. Take the boy along. Keep us cutting edge and off the cutting room floor. A fast repast, I love one so.