A “come to Jesus moment”…with the delivery guy

15 Apr

A few nights ago I got home late from work.  As I walked from the elevator to my apartment, I pulled out my blackberry to order dinner from a recently discovered noodle place close by.  OBAO  was writing down my go-to order of Pho Bo before I even had my key in the lock.  It was only after I closed the door behind me that I realized I had done it again.  Ordered for “we”.  As usual.

If you’ve ever experienced a significantly painful breakup, particularly one that forces you to relearn how to make the moments of your everyday life your own, you know that certain habits are difficult to change.  On the flip side, there are new and unfamiliar habits necessary but laborious to form.  Every now and then you’ll find that these seemingly contradictory habits go hand in hand.  Like when you can’t stop ordering takeout in the form of “can we have…?” but you keep ordering said takeout because you don’t want to make dinner for just one.  Because it doesn’t seem worth it.  Because you won’t know what to do with the leftovers.  Because there won’t be anyone to help clean up the mess afterwards.

I have absolutely no idea why I keep placing “we” orders…and come on, I’m not fooling anyone.  The guy answering the phone at OBAO knows that one order of noodle soup doesn’t feed a “we”.  You know it doesn’t feed a “we”.  I know it doesn’t feed a “we”.  But I keep ordering for “we”.

Until a few nights ago that is…my so-called “coming to Jesus moment”.  With the takeout guy.  It took just two simple words from him: “Thanks Kate”.

Hold on.  The noodle shop delivery guy not only knows my name but feels as though our relationship has progressed to a place in which we are on a first name basis…?  I know when to call a spade a spade.  Following this revelation, there was no way I was ordering takeout last night – for “we” or anyone else.  Sometimes it apparently takes a total cliché to change your perspective: I suddenly didn’t care if there was no point in cooking for one; I didn’t care about having too many leftovers; I didn’t care about the mess (and it’s not like you-know-who would have helped clean up anyway!)  Instead, I made a beeline for the grocery store from the accountant’s office last night (yes, that asshole who asked me if my husband would be “joining us” last night…).  I was on a mission.  A mission with a list.  Of ingredients.  For a recipe.  That I was going to make.

Why empanadas, I have no idea.  Lonely Gourmet blog is in my Google Reader (proof that I’m trying!) so when I saw the post yesterday, I thought, “Great, six ingredients.  Done.”  (And let’s be honest, styrofoam would taste good wrapped in bread dough…)

In the interest of keeping an air of humor to my very stereotypical encounter with the delivery guy, I laughed a quiet “Thanks, Kate” as I cut into and took the first bite of my homemade dinner.

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2 Responses to “A “come to Jesus moment”…with the delivery guy”

  1. Mandy April 21, 2011 at 1:26 pm #

    Yummmm… Can’t go wrong with meat, cheese and bread!

Trackbacks/Pingbacks

  1. Something comforting « Unwedded Bliss - October 20, 2011

    […] to expect on duty which night of the week.  This is clearly suboptimal and needs to change.  I’ve said it before but I mean it this […]

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