I think that this is where all kinds of stuff goes.
I am not really sure which cart (on the wild streets of Manhattan) I got this “Chicken & Rice with Red Sauce/White Sauce & a Salad” (I think that is it’s proper name) from – but as you can tell from the picture . . . it was nowhere near up to snuff.
I really missed this kind of food while in the deep South – and by ‘this kind of food’ I clearly mean food that is made in more than likely super-clean – do I really want to even think about where (or what) that meat came from – that I am about to eat out of that cute little tin type of food container type of food. Jeez-o-pete . . . this was supposed to be my big welcome back to the kitchen on wheels “Please – my friend – pull up a seat at our table . . . the sidewalk!” – I even walked all the way to Bryant Park so that the setting would be perfect [which is why I can’t figure out where the food came from] . . . and then . . . not not so so good.
I was only able to eat the rice and salad parts – and was only able to choke that down because I was hungry enough to eat with a bear (have you ever tried?!) . . .
Not to worry though . . . there are (at least) hundreds of carts out there for me to try (and I am just talking about in my direct path on the way to Times Square) . . . and my stomach is nothing – if not made of stern stuff . . . so I will carry on – until my cart food itch has been scritch – scritch – scratched.
Or until I end up at some classy hospital hooked up to a stomach pump . . .
Hooray!
Don’t talk to me about Buckley’s. As a matter of fact . . . don’t even look in my general direction when the concept of Buckley’s floats through your mind . . . it is all just too terrible – seriously.
Buckley’s is a joke of a cough syrup from our hilarious neighbors to the north (Canada) . . . and taking it is like licking a dollop of Vick’s mentholated rub off of a strip of fly paper that has been steeping in a cup of gasoline(ated) turpentine. It is bad bad bad in ways that I can’t even figure out – so heed my experience as a warning.
I had been sick for a few days and the normal ways of kicking the sickness to the curb weren’t quite working out (you know that I am talking all about you Dayquil/Nyquil knock out combo) . . . and so I took the advice of a fellow coworker and went on a mission to find some of what he called “Some really terrible stuff.â€
At first – I couldn’t find it anywhere – but I became more focused when a worker at a store said “Oh – people are buying up all of the Buckley’s . . .†when I asked here where I could find it. What was this magic medicine – that I had never heard of – that people were in such a rush to buy?! I absolutely had to have some of this nasty stuff so that it could make me all kinds of better.
When I finally got my hands on some, I laughed at the slogan on the bottle “It tastes awful. And it works.†I mean come on – it was just some in the aisle medicine – how bad could it be?! Then I took it out of it’s box and marveled at the translucent brown bottle with the pearlecent white liquid with a blue-ish tinge that I was holding in my hand. I then took a one and one-half teaspoon swig from the bottle.
Everything went blank for me at that point as the ferocious swill ate it’s way down my throat – causing me into a fit of jerks and gaggles as it went. All that I can figure is that I was completely destroyed and rebuilt from the ground up when I took a taste . . . lacking only the cold that had been sticking with me . . . I was a whole and better person – albeit with a really bad taste in my mouth that I can still conjure up a week later . . .
And then 4 (four) hours later – when the dosage wore off – the coughing came right back . . . and it was time to take another sip.
So please . . . don’t even talk to me about Buckley’s – whatever you do. . . because it is more than – more than kind of – kind of yucky – blea-uuuuugh – blug – blug – blug – amo-cabo-uch-uch-uch.
