Off The Duff

Since I haven’t really eaten a meal since the picnic-style Moe’s and Joe’s lunch of chicken quesadillas on the floor of Carl’s cube Tuesday afternoon — (had to get my Cinco de Mayo fill early) — I was turning into quite the Ana Anna. (that’s eating disorder speak, folks. look it up.)

*SIDENOTE (aka- Completely Unrelated Tangential Meandering): Not only does my last name stand for “lady bits” (‘Beaver’), but my first name is lucky enough to have the honor of standing for ‘Ana’, a glorified personification of an eating disordered girl (think, Fiona Apple) – derived from, ‘anorexia’. Ana is often spotted hanging out with fellow skinny bitch, ‘Mia’ (you know, like, buliMIA). I’m not even making this up, folks. This is the type of information I learn when I see a friend on facebook who has gotten too skinny and then spend the next hour and half of my ADD-plagued life on urban dictionary-esque sites centered around eating disorders. I also read about some sort of weird tie-in about what it stands for when these types of girls wear red and purple bracelets?? I don’t know – I learned a lot of crazy things during that Google search. So beware, skinny friends, I’m watching you…

Anyway, getting back to it. I was STARVING, J, but still not quite ready to indulge in the delicious richness often found in typical French cuisine. So I opt to go the salad route and start wandering the local streets.

Saw this on the way.

I finally stumble into a little pizza place across the street from my residence. I ask if they can make a salad “à emporter” (aka- ‘to go’). The owner was overtly accommodating and assured me he could do this – offered me a place to sit down in the restaurant while I waited. It was a good thing I sat down because it took him about 40min – no lie – to prepare it. I guess he was just trying to make it perfect. I didn’t mind waiting – it was nice being out of my room and listening to a nearby table of French folks chatting over their meals. Anyway, when he finally brought it out – he gave me the salad in a big thing of tupperware – ha! If I had known they didn’t do take-out, I wouldn’t have made him go through all that – but he was so nice. Anyway, I promised him I would bring back the tupperware, silverware, and dressing container he gave me because “je reste juste la-bas” (indicating my residence was right across the street). He knew because he said he saw me get out of the taxi the other morning. That would’ve been creepy if he wasn’t so nice – but I didn’t get that vibe from him at all. He was legitimately just looking out for an apparent out-of-towner. So nice.

My delicious salad. Can you tell it was a pizza place? Notice the pesto covered mozzarella. LOVE. IT. This shall now be known as “Le Anna Special.”