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Wednesday, May 04, 2005

Run for the Boarder

Why is it that when you’re hung over you crave greasy crappy food? I had that problem today as I was nursing a rather sever hangover from my night out last night. It should have occurred to me that it was time to retire when I asked the bouncer while fumbling through my purse for my ID if he thought it was a good idea to let me in the bar because I was REALLY drunk. He said I should be fine so of course I entered and ordered another drink because I really needed one. Thus my massive hang over brought on by approximately 6 glasses of red wine and a “Scooby Snack (?), whatever that is.
So, while driving around visiting clients today I started to crave Taco Bell nachos (no meat extra beans) and the quest began. I immediately drove to the area I thought would have a Taco Bell. It’s an area of which I am unfamiliar so I had to drive for quite some time until I found a bunch of restaurants, some strip malls, and ultimately, no Taco Bell. I was cracked, why is it that wherever you go you see one, but when you need one they’re never around, kind of like policemen…or bottle openers.
Anyway, I passed a Chipotle and could have stopped for their nachos, but I didn’t want their nachos. I wanted Taco Bell crappy nachos. I wanted the kind of nachos with processed cheese, canned tomatoes, soggy scallions, and refried beans that most probably double as cat food.
I decided to stop my car and think (because apparently I can’t think and drive at the same time…I know, that’s very scary), and after thinking I eventually decided that in order to find a Taco Bell I must put myself in the place of the people that frequent Taco Bell. Now, where do I see them? Immediately I thought of busy intersections with lots of concrete and strange looking people loitering around gas stations and the like. Where would one of those places be around here? (Ding, insert cartoon light bulb here) Fridley! OF COURSE! FRIDLEY!
For those of you who have never been to Fridley MN, don’t go, you’re not missing anything. Actually, don’t go because you’ll never look at the world the same again…ever. I myself having grown up in Bloomington (a suburb of Minneapolis) haven’t even been to Fridley up until about 3 weeks ago when I accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up there. Since that time I have so eloquently named Fridley “The Ass Crack of the Twin Cities Metro Area” and I’m not even being overly dramatic about that, it’s true, if Fridley were an area on the body it would be an ass crack.
So I was now off to Fridley, a city in which I implicitly swore I would never ever visit again to get my greasy crappy Taco Bell because I was hung over and needed to get my fix. The funny thing is, I did find one and I think I saw like three others within a 2 mile radius, and I even ordered my crappy nachos without my sarcastic usual “I’ll take the nachos supreme without the dandruff and pubic hair please.” It turned out that I ate every single last one of my crappy nachos, which were SO good and totally hit the spot. I’ve also decided that I received a little lesson, Marketing 101 style; In order to get crappy food you have to go to the crappy parts of town. I’ve also learned that 6 glasses of wine and a shot of some obscure drink named after a cartoon with a talking dog and toked out hippie will definitely reap havoc on your body the next day and probably should not be consumed within such a short period of time. Live and learn because “It Is What It Is.”

3 comments:

Charlie Mc said...

Funny story....so the lesson here is, you want a gun...go to the shady part of town, want some crack....shady part of town...want some nachos....shady part of town! good story. I've been known to hit many a diner at 4am....thank God I run as much as I do! :)

i.marzipan said...

I CANNOT believe that you forgot about the Taco Bell on Lake & Hiawatha, the scene of our drunk-in-the-morning pigout (which, by the way, should be Drunk Story #3!)

Steph said...

That's hysterical! My hung over greasy food is Jack-in-the-Box tacos. I'm never even sure what it is that I'm eating. You can't let the mystery meat bother you, or the slice of american cheese on each taco, even when it's not melted. Jack-in-the-Box rules! My girls and I affectionately call it "Crap-in-the Bag!"