| | OPERATION: TURKEY SHIELDSo I was eating lunch today and ended up with a most of a turkey wrap left. The first half was delish, so I knew I couldn't just waste the other half by throwing it to the dish washers. They'd eat it, sure, but they would never appreciate it like I could. I am a turkey man, and I live every moment in anticipation of my next bite of a glorious turkey BLT wrap. But because of our dining hall's all-you-can-eat-or-all-you-can-groutesquely-stuff-into-your-belly-before-becoming-so-massive-you-collapse-like-a-neutron-star policy, I'm only allowed to bring fruit out of the building. It was time for OPERATION: TURKEY SHIELD.
 
(note: aforementioned turkey wrap did not include cool beets 'n green things in a bowl)
First I tried to wrap it up in a napkin and disguise it as a banana, but that was a disasterous-looking banana. So sarah had the great idea "hey, just put it in your pants and they'll never notice!" I trust her with my life, so I faced the wall and BAM quickly shoved an entirely over-stuffed turkey blt wrap down into the netherregions of my jeans. It was a snug fit. Quite snug indeed. Actually really really snug and a little cold. And drippy. Yes, yes, it was very drippy. Like the Niagra Falls of tomatoes had just unleashed its fury inside my pants. Not even the 2 layers of napkins and my undies could protect me from the awkward cold drippiness of the tomatoes. Nevertheless, I kept my composure and we walked slowly, nonchalantly past the entrance booth and out into freedom.
It's about now that I realized that I shouldn't have taken sarah so literally. It dawns on me that I now have no way to stealthily remove this sandwhich from my pants. Its an open courtyard filled with students, and I was sure that a third of the student body population was staring intently at this large bulge that was slowly creeping its way down the left side of my crotch. I spotted a small alcove on the right, where the student senate office is. we hurry over there and prepare OPERATION: TURKEY-PANTS EXTRACTION. Sarah and Jeremy formed a protective wall behind me as I prepared to grab the sandwich. It was then that I realized that the door in front of me was actually a large pane of glass. And on the other side of the glass were two students lounging on a sofa, staring at me. I knew it was time to abort the mission. I nodded at them, slowly backed away, and again we started walking (or in my case, waddling) towards the dorms.
Well, I finally get to the dorm and sneak in a side door. As soon as I was in the safety of a dark stairwell, I unbuttoned and unloaded. I'm pretty sure I looked (a) perverted, (b) retarded, (c) perv-tarded, or (d) all of the above. Anywho, I booked it back to my dorm room and threw the drippy, squashed, slightly warm turkey wrap onto the desk.
To make a long story even longer, I decided to inspect the wrap. Like I said, I'm a turkey man...so you know I couldn't just throw away this wrap. Not after all the intimate moments we've had together. I unwraped the napkins and inspected it. It almost looked normal (I have found that turkey wraps are surprisingly resilient). After a few minutes of sniffing and wafting, I concluded that even after several minutes within close proximity of things I would never put into my own mouth, this turkey wrap passed the smell test. As we all know, the smell test is the test-to-end-all-tests. Its inpenetrable, impregnable; it is intensely accurate. So I had no choice but to seal the sandwich in a fresh ziploc and throw it in the fridge.
Some might think I'm disgusting. Some may regard me with a slight sense of awe. Still others would wonder why I would ever shove a turkey BLT wrap into my jeans. I have one word for y'all: Passion.
And justice. Make that two words: Passion and Justice.
[fin] |
