The school cafeteria is an inviting oasis for a wild assortment of characters. Thus far, I have witnessed a young man recording thirty minutes of community college-themed rap at his laptop, a herd of forty-year-old women doing aerobics in the smaller dining room, and one shy girl awkwardly asking an intimidatingly cute boy to open her peach pear soda for her because the lid was glued on by Billy Mays himself. (I have since taken to pre-opening my drinks at home.)
Seeing that my boss is on vacation for the next week, I am very tempted to ditch work tomorrow to spend a full day people-watching while reviewing all items listed on the dessert menu. Anyone want to volunteer to be my assistant?
P.S. While typing this entry, I suddenly remembered the entirety of "Popeye the Sailor Meets Ali Baba's Forty Thieves" in startling detail. Popeye was one of the few shows I was allowed to watch while I was growing up, and I must have watched a lot of it. Along the way, I somehow managed to associate oases with cartoon mirages — shimmering images of desirable things floating in the desert. But forget deserts; I'm back to thinking about desserts. Who wants ice cream?