Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Never crouch down on the express elevator
It makes you feel drunk for about five minutes afterward, which might sound like a good thing, but not at 8:30 in the morning after you just ate a bran muffin. (I was rooting around in my bag for my wallet, if you must know)
Well, I'm still at Old Mutual. I did three days last week and it looks like I'll be here until next week. Meg just called and said the hospital job wanted someone with more experience, which is fine because it sounded like a lot of stuff to handle and I really just wanted to apply to get the interview experience. She's going to try and get me an interview for an executive assistant position in a small venture capital company in downtown Boston. She says there's a lot of money in venture capital and the offices at these places are usually really nice. Staying here wouldn't be a problem - the people are really nice and the view is fucking fantastic - but I really want something a little more challenging that doesn't have me chained to a desk all day.
I had the worst meal I have ever had in a restaurant last Friday. It even tops the nasty scallops I had at Bocaccini in Hampton Bays. I went to the Edgewater Cafe with my mom and Brian. It's a few doors down from A Passage to India (I love that place - we should have gone there instead). Underneath the Edgewater Cafe it says "Authentic Mexican Cuisine." Which makes it even more confusing because not only was the meal the worst I've ever been served, it's also the worst Chinese food I've ever had. Let me explain: Mom and Brian's food was okay. "It's not bad, it's just okay," Brian said a few times. I ordered the vegetable fajitas. I thought, "Fajitas: sizzling platters of peppers and onions and, in this case, probably some mushrooms." What I got was a huge plate of broccoli, chunks of green pepper, and limp onions all smothered to within an inch of their lives in some watery brown sauce (here I will mention that there was not one square millimeter left on the plate for fajita construction). I had a few bites and quit. It was so salty it was making my stomach burn. My mom took a bite and made a positive identification. Soy sauce. All over my "Authentic Mexican" fajitas. I should have refused to pay because, seriously, any head chef who would serve that plate of nastiness in his restaurant has no respect for his customers. But I just wanted to leave because we'd gone right after work and was tired, so when I got home I posted a bad review on Yahoo!. It just completely boggles my mind that someone came up with that dish and decided it was fit for human consumption. It wasn't just bad Chinese food, it was like bad homemade Chinese food. In a Mexican restaurant! I swear, this will haunt me until the day I die.
Well, I'm still at Old Mutual. I did three days last week and it looks like I'll be here until next week. Meg just called and said the hospital job wanted someone with more experience, which is fine because it sounded like a lot of stuff to handle and I really just wanted to apply to get the interview experience. She's going to try and get me an interview for an executive assistant position in a small venture capital company in downtown Boston. She says there's a lot of money in venture capital and the offices at these places are usually really nice. Staying here wouldn't be a problem - the people are really nice and the view is fucking fantastic - but I really want something a little more challenging that doesn't have me chained to a desk all day.
I had the worst meal I have ever had in a restaurant last Friday. It even tops the nasty scallops I had at Bocaccini in Hampton Bays. I went to the Edgewater Cafe with my mom and Brian. It's a few doors down from A Passage to India (I love that place - we should have gone there instead). Underneath the Edgewater Cafe it says "Authentic Mexican Cuisine." Which makes it even more confusing because not only was the meal the worst I've ever been served, it's also the worst Chinese food I've ever had. Let me explain: Mom and Brian's food was okay. "It's not bad, it's just okay," Brian said a few times. I ordered the vegetable fajitas. I thought, "Fajitas: sizzling platters of peppers and onions and, in this case, probably some mushrooms." What I got was a huge plate of broccoli, chunks of green pepper, and limp onions all smothered to within an inch of their lives in some watery brown sauce (here I will mention that there was not one square millimeter left on the plate for fajita construction). I had a few bites and quit. It was so salty it was making my stomach burn. My mom took a bite and made a positive identification. Soy sauce. All over my "Authentic Mexican" fajitas. I should have refused to pay because, seriously, any head chef who would serve that plate of nastiness in his restaurant has no respect for his customers. But I just wanted to leave because we'd gone right after work and was tired, so when I got home I posted a bad review on Yahoo!. It just completely boggles my mind that someone came up with that dish and decided it was fit for human consumption. It wasn't just bad Chinese food, it was like bad homemade Chinese food. In a Mexican restaurant! I swear, this will haunt me until the day I die.
Labels: I Like Food, Workin' for a livin'
