From his seat in Indiana's capital city, Matt discusses politics and pop culture. His hobbies include longing for simpler times, complaining about the government, and shaking his fist at the sky. * K&S is updated on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
GUEST BLOG: Of Love & Tacos
By RICK RANDJELOVIC, Guest Blogger/Six Sigma Black Belt
First of all, yes, this is a blog about Qdoba. Well, sort of... If you want to stop reading now, I totally understand. Just know that you'll miss the surprise ending. Just kidding. It isn't really a surprise, or an ending, for that matter. What lies ahead for you, our loyal readers, is a troubling look at a young, single man's world.
Today for lunch we went to Qdoba. Looking at my, um, leavings, one could find that I eat a lot of Mexican food. Not real Mexican, but burrito-chain Mexican. Last night I had Moe's. Today I had Qdoba. On Friday, lunch is being catered in from Qdoba. I don't know if I should be proud or shameful. Perhaps we should make up a word right now that could describe the combination. How about "shamprod?"
Feeling shamprod isn't that rare of an occurrence for me. I'm very shamprod that I drank three bottles of champaign and threw up for 6 hours afterwards. Or, you must be very shamprod; you have the entire "Welcome Back Kotter" commemorative plate set. It took a lot of hard work (pride), to collect something that ridiculously dorky (shame).
One thing that I'm actually shamprod of (other than the throw up thing) is that I now drink mostly Diet Coke. The thing is, I mix a little regular Coke in with it. Sometimes I even Cherry Coke it up. You still get the caffeine, but not the 600 calories. Now, I told you that story to tell you this one:
There is a reason why I enjoy going to Qdoba. I'm a gambler. Three weeks ago, we went to Qdoba and this woman walks in. She was very attractive but older. Not Skeletor old, rather she is probably 4 years older than me.
Well, as fate would have it, we were both at the drink station thingy at the same time. Then it happened. I watched her combine both Coke and Diet Coke. I knew then and there I had to at least talk to her. So I mustered up all my nerve and said, "So, you're a mixer."
Of course, I knew what being a mixer meant. So do you after reading the last few paragraphs. Here's the thing: It turns out she didn't have a chance to read any of this ahead of time. It must astound you to know that her reply was, "What?" Then I explained about the Coke and Diet Coke thing. She said that she was trying to kick her Coke habit. I laughed because when a stranger tells you she's trying to kick a coke habit - well, that's just funny.
So, that's all that really happened. I know, big deal, right? Wrong (or right, I don't know).
Last week, when we went to Qdoba, she came in. She didn't look at me or acknowledge my presence, but I felt a connection. I thought that my clever banter and acquisitions of hard-core drug use would have earned me a place in her heart. Apparently they did not.
Like I said, we went back today - and who walks in but "The Mixer."
Isn't that kind of weird? Wait, is it weird or is it destiny? If it was random chance, then yes. I'm going with destiny. However, here's where the gambler in me takes over. What are the odds that three weeks in a row I would see the same girl in Qdoba? Probably pretty small. So, that must mean she eats there EVERY DAY. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Let us form a bulleted list.
Massive points on Q-card
Smells like warm tortillas
Not Atkins friendly
Possibly obsessive compulsive
So naturally, Good wins. How creepy would it be if she was stalking me? I have to admit, thinking that I eat at Qdoba so much that a girl who wants to stalk me goes there every day for lunch has got to make a guy feel just a little shamprod.