I was sitting down at a cafe, minding my own business, reading a book and eating my breakfast, when I started to eavesdrop on the conversation going on next to me. After a few moments, I realized that it was a job interview. The guy being interviewed was young, well dressed, maybe a tad nervous, but doing alright from the looks of it. The interviewer was a young women, fulfilling that sort of demi-god like status that many interviewers assume: the fountain of knowledge screening those who wish to sup. At least, that's how I use to do it.
The conversation was light hearted at first. Just some general info. However, their harmless tete-a-tete was interrupted when a waitress came up to the table and asked what they would like to eat.
"Come on brother", I quietly mouthed as I stealthily sipped from my now tepid double macchiato. I knew that this is the guy's opportunity to really send some ass-kicking subtle signals to the interviewer. He can show that he is a hard worker and a real go-getter by ordering something assertive. Order something that impresses the lady. Order something that makes her go "Wow, that sounds great. I'll have that too."
His order: Quiche, and a glass of water.
You poor pathetic pussy willow. Quiche? QUICHE! Now, I'm not here to demean the gastronomic qualities of that venerable dish-- but quiche?! What message was he trying to send with that one?
-"I like my lunches light because I have a very very sensitive stomach. Too much protein makes me gassy and bloaty."
-"Oh, just a water for me. I'm cheap."
Quiche Lorraine?
Quiche. You're lame.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I love quiche.
Post a Comment