Monday Morning. Early. Groggy from the weekend's festivities.
J and I are conversing in hushed, tired tones as we walk to the bus.
Another day. Another old man on a bicycle approaches. Everything is as it always is.
But wait. Something is very wrong. J screams and jumps back. I turn my head toward the line of her vision only to recoil in surprise with an audible, "WHAT???". The old man, driving his bike with one handed abandon has his pants unzipped and is hurriedly wrestling something back into the crotch area while muttering to himself under his breath and OH MY GOSH, did I really need to see that on a monday? We stumble giggling to the bus stop, a little unsure of what just happened, but sure of one thing: Mondays and old man fleshy flashers don't mix.
Wednesday. I'm getting things ready for a cooking class, digging through the cabinets of the school kitchen. Everyone in the kitchen staff has gone home for the day and I have no clue where anything is. So I'm excavating and slowly finding what I need when I see something odd. A big silver bowl under the kitchen cabinets filled with what appears to be meat. That's right. meat. PORK. Right next to the mixing bowls in the cabinet under the sink which is located, ironically, next to the empty refrigerator. I start to wonder if someone forgot it there, but then I realized, no no no...that's not forgotten meat, that's tomorrow's lunch, gathering bacteria and slowly marinating in it's own botchulistic (I think I just made that word up) juices. I told on the cafeteria lady. I couldn't help myself. I have to eat this stuff and who knows how many times before this she's flirted with my destiny in that cabinet....? Needless to say, today, The girls and I are going OUT for lunch.