Really. And none of it was that crap we served on flights.
I know the best Italian restaurant in Richmond, the coziest little cafe near the Georgetown campus that makes these chocolate chip croissants that are buttery and deliciously dry, and where you can go in DC for onion rings that are so good that eating them has got to be a sin.
And I make kickass bruschetta. Used to, anyway.
For a long time after the crash, nothing had much of a taste. I couldn't appreciate any of it at all: not that sweet juice that seeps into your mouth as you crunch into an apple or the steaming goodness of a soup chock-full of vegetables or even that clean, refreshing lack of flavor in cold water.
Until today.
It's Spam. It's fucking Spam that I'm eating, savoring it like it's some kind of delicacy.
But I've got the only man I've seen in two years sharing it with me, and it's taking everything I've got to keep from staring at his hands and his mouth, his stubbled chin and those totally unfeminine shoulders.
And this Spam is somehow the best damn thing I've ever tasted.
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my fandom has fewer males than your fandom
Date: 2005-04-19 06:20 am (UTC)Really. And none of it was that crap we served on flights.
I know the best Italian restaurant in Richmond, the coziest little cafe near the Georgetown campus that makes these chocolate chip croissants that are buttery and deliciously dry, and where you can go in DC for onion rings that are so good that eating them has got to be a sin.
And I make kickass bruschetta. Used to, anyway.
For a long time after the crash, nothing had much of a taste. I couldn't appreciate any of it at all: not that sweet juice that seeps into your mouth as you crunch into an apple or the steaming goodness of a soup chock-full of vegetables or even that clean, refreshing lack of flavor in cold water.
Until today.
It's Spam. It's fucking Spam that I'm eating, savoring it like it's some kind of delicacy.
But I've got the only man I've seen in two years sharing it with me, and it's taking everything I've got to keep from staring at his hands and his mouth, his stubbled chin and those totally unfeminine shoulders.
And this Spam is somehow the best damn thing I've ever tasted.