As I was walking up 20th Street an hour ago to meet the lovely Miss Reba for lunch, my only thought (aside from her) was "Golly gee-whillikers, I sure hope they have soup today. A big bowl of soup would open me up and allow me to breathe. Soup, it does a body good, you know. Mmmm-mmm good. Soup. Soup. SOUP." (Of course, I think I was thinking this and not saying it out loud.)

Anyway, I got there (there being Dyson's Deli, which is where we eat just about every day) and discovered that I had indeed been living right--not only was there soup, it was GUMBO! Nice, thick, hearty, spicy, bay leafy, sausagy, okralicious gumbo! Halleluiah!

Or so you would thing.

Let me tell you, if you're someone with a low grade fever and you're going to have to be in polite company, probably the worst thing for you is to eat something hot and spicy, especially if it comes about that you find it necessary to walk back to work eight blocks in a light rainstorm, which, although it is relatively cool outside, has driven the humidity to 100%.

By the time I got back to the office, I was (and still am, for that matter) a big fat runny snotty sweaty bedraggled mess. And of all days to change from my usual plain white dress shirt, today I have on my really happening and stylish light blue shirt which shows even the most minute traces of bodily dampness.

Ick.

That sure was some good gumbo, though.
posted by Terry at 1:25:00 PM