It's 3:32 Somewhere

From the folks who brought you Lunch At 10:53…I proudly announce the unveiling of their latest venture: Supper At 3:32.

Yes, we have apparently become citizens of Del Boca Vista. You know, that illustrious senior community in Florida where the Costanzas considered moving. Home of fold-out couches with back-breaking bars in them. Where the air conditioner is never turned on. Where neighbors voluntarily give you their astronaut pen, then have the nerve to want it back. Like some kind of...person who gives something to you then wants it back. No steak dinners at 4:30 for us. No sirree, Bob! It’s pasta primavera at 3:32, baby! It’s a wonder we weren’t all “refunding” a couple of hours later, with a doomed boat ride on an anti-whaling mission for Greenpeace in our future.

Such is the life of a public school teacher on parent conference night. It’s either feast or famine. This evening was a feast. Instead of ordering out our own meal at our own expense, and having our Chinese or Mexican fare arrive at 5:00, for everybody and his brother to handle and sift through and shove aside while on a quest for his item…the school footed the bill and brought us pasta. Mmm…mmm. Okay, the Truth in Blogging Law says I must disclose that we did not really have pasta primavera. We had mostaccioli, and fettuccine alfredo, with salad and rolls.

The meal was supposed to arrive at 4:00. Still earlier than the Early Bird Special, but planned so we could feast uninterrupted by the after-work rush. Woe were the poor souls who have third lunch from 11:47 to 12:14. No doubt they were still stuffed from their cafeteria tray of "pork" chop, mashed potatoes, peas, and a banana. Too bad, so sad! More for US! The ravenous 10:53 lunch crowd.

We might as well live up to our sullied reputation of scarfing down every morsel in our path, like army ants on the march. Take THAT, grazers. Leave those carbs alone. Salad for you. Forget the roll.