Sunday, October 16, 2011

To-Go-Cup?

I haven't really enjoyed pizza ever since I was puking everything I ate, especially things like pepperoni. Which is weird. Because this girl LOVES pizza. A LOT. There was a point in time that I wouldn't even smell a hamburger without gagging, but thank goodness to McDonalds and their classic, plain hamburgers with little more on them than a squirt of ketchup. I am chewing on those things again and enjoy the meatiness of them. Red meat. If I were a dinosaur I am pretty sure I would be a red meat eating monster. Chicken can only last for so long.

Handsome Husband has a tradition of feeding his empty heart the day of the week that I have to work late and without fail there is a Papa Johns sitting on the counter when I get home at 10 pm. He's learned to also get some bread sticks and to ask for the marinara sauce to dip them in, otherwise there is someone who is kind of unhappy. 'Cause that's all I'll eat. Bread and cheese with dipping sauce. Anything else on there and it is deemed unworthy of consumption.

I had a little bit of a craving for some Alfredo sauce and chicken the other night and couldn't stand the idea of eating it on noodles. So the next best carb? Potatoes. Potatoes are the next best carb to noodles, but no, I didn't eat potato wedges masked in Alfredo and chicken. It had to be the bread. The pizza bread. So off we went to this pizza joint that actually doesn't make all that awesome of pizza, but they do make killer bread twists. Seriously, killer. You could sword fight with these things and come away with a flesh wound. They serve them to you on a long skewer, dripping in butter and Parmesan cheese. Not only a flesh wound could you come away with, but a cholesterol attack all at the same time.

We usually get waters when we go out. 'Cause you know how spendy those sodas with ice in them are. That's where they get their money. A little carbonation and some syrup and you've added 5% onto your tip. Not worth it. But this time, this time we were given the option of red creme soda. Ummm... can't exactly pass that up. Especially when I have been haunting gas stations for the fountain stuff. We had to get it. It said nothing on the bottom about free re-fills, which makes a person think that re-fills are not free. So I savored that stuff. One goldfish sip here, another ostrich gulp there, it was good. And I made it last. All the way to the end. And then the waitress brings out another. Apparently there is one free re-fill. Well! We were actually putting the last bites of pizza and pasta into our mouths and were just about ready to go, so you know what she asks us?! If we want a 'to-go-cup'.

Say that again. A to-what-cup? We were both caught off guard. What was this nonsense, anyways? Who takes a to-go-cup from a sit-down restaurant? Arctic Circle and Taco Bell don't count. Side note for anyone interested, the root beer at Arctic Circle is to die for. It's your run of the mill Mug root beer, but that stuff is good there. We said yes, 'cause it seemed kinda rude to turn down something that was obviously offered there frequently. She brought us out two soda cups and lids and we poured our sodas into these fantabulous to-go-cups.

I've learned a lot from my parents, but probably one of the things that I learned that I use the most often, besides treat people the way you would want to be treated, which I may have learned in church anyways, is this little diddy. Whenever getting a soft drink, ask for no ice. Number one, you get more soda 'cause there's no ice taking up 3/4 of your cup and number two, you don't have watery soda when you'r sucking on that straw for the last time. I mean, they keep the stuff cold anyways, why bother with ice and watery soda?

Moral of the story, I don't like ice bumping around in my soda. So, bless his dear heart, Handsome Husband poured everything into one cup, popped the lid on it and opened up the straw hole real wide and strained the soda into the other cup, leaving all the ice behind. It was such a sweet thing to do. Simple pleasures of life. I definitely married him for his brains. And his sense of humor. And his personality. And the fact that he would never take me for granted.

I drank my red creme soda on the car ride home and enjoyed the red licorice taste of it and was so glad that now I know all about to-go-cups. And now that I know, perhaps I can go in there and just order up some red creme soda instead of scouring every gas station I pass.

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