Second Lunch; Worse Than the First
I let FSD drive me to work today, and I basically didn’t touch the wheel after Atkins. I kept waiting for there to be a steering wheel nag, but it just didn’t happen. I got the typical “pay attention” warnings if it looked like I wasn’t staring straight ahead for too long, but otherwise my hands were in my lap for the entire drive. I intervened once when I was nearly all the way to work, in order to prevent it looking stupid in heavy traffic. Then I had to whip into the office parking lot quickly because it couldn’t find the entrance with an oncoming truck. Otherwise it performed reasonably well on the highway as long as I was dictating lane changes. That’s still an issue that makes it look like a first-time driver.
Randy was back, and full of piss and vinegar, which was more funny than scary. He gets on rants and just lets it fly, which is only different from my usual accompaniment in that he’s much louder. I don’t mind, and I at least feel like we have the same struggles. He sort of helped me with access to stuff I had been missing since he left, and then he hung around the main office area complaining about all the email he’d gotten.
There was a non-union organization representative that brought us pizza from American Pie Pizza for lunch, and it reminded me of Brick Oven. I liked it, but after I’d eaten my first slice and a bite of the second, Jim called Randy and wanted to go out to eat. Randy said we were going to second-lunch, and at this point I’m still mostly in it for the camaraderie, so I summoned the Model Y and we took it across town. Maggie said she was too nervous to ride with FSD, so she drove separately.
The place Jim wanted to go was closed when we got there, so we rerouted to Señor Tequila, which I thought was fine, but not good. I figured it might be authentic with such little English being spoken, but it was just like any other middling Mexican restaurant. The beans were runny and the chips lacked salt. Otherwise the food could have used a bit more kick. I tried the tamale, and it was fine. The restaurant was also awkwardly quiet. I just wished I had stayed with the pizza instead.
We finished up the afternoon and I tried to close out some stale tickets, and then I headed home. I had to stop at Kohl’s to pick up an order on the way, and then I had to take a break before taking the dogs out on their run. It was already getting dark quickly, so we stopped briefly to see Dad and then continued up the hill and around the block a couple times. They did alright, but not great. I was also aggravated to see pots scattered in the yard and the edge of Stilgar’s pool all chewed up when I got home. They got some chews since I haven’t gotten any more hot dogs, and then I came in to clean up and wrap up before bed.
Cornel West, he’s our guy! If he can’t win, then why’d we try?