It’s official. Today marks one year at the Y bang. Just got an email from e-trade: You Have Newly Vested Shares. I actually meant to make this a two parter. one on May 20th (last day at CCIT) and one today, but well, not all plans come to fruition. I also intended this to be a bit of retrospective, an evaluation of sorts. The pros, the cons and how it all bleeds into the big picture. But, now that i’m here, well, like i said, fruit is hard to come by.

Instead, i offer a story about the salad bar at Y bang. Let’s see, how should i start this . . .

There is a salad bar at the Y bang. Actually, there are multiple salad bars at the Y bang. The one i speak of resides on the first floor of my building, building F. Over the past few months, i’ve become very aquainted with said salad bar. I roll up every day greeted by fresh spinach, mixed greens, and crisp romaine lettuce. A selection of shredded carrots, sliced cucumbers, and cobb-less corn are accompanied by a variety of dressings, crutons, and mixed fruit. Artichoke hearts, mushrooms, and cherry tomatoes round out the selection. All in all, it’s a pretty decent spread. But there’s one thing that gets me about this salad bar. An interesting phenomenon ehibits itself almost without fail, and that phenomenon is a mutal exclusion amongst feta and bacon bits.

It gets me every time, which, considering i eat from this thing almost daily, is quite often. All i want is bacon and feta together in one bowl. To taste that smokey meat juxtaposed with that greek god of cheeses. It has become an obsession.

I once asked teressa (the check-out lady) about it. “The bacon bits, teressa! it’s all about the bacon bits! where are the bacon bits?” The next day bacon bits were sighted only to left abandoned by feta. what cruel, cruel punishment.

“The feta, teressa! it’s all about the feta!, where’s the feta?”

The next day, feta . . . and bacon bits! eureka! praise be to the deity of your choice for this was truly divine! In that moment, it was as if i stood upon mount olympus itself. smokey bacon. salty feta. shudder.

But, heaven wouldn’t wait for me to watch the stars. since that day, the bacon-feta has vanished from sight never to be seen again. cast from eden am i.

it’s as if this salad bar only exists to deny me the satisfaction of feta with bacon bits. And, I am fully aware that feta and bacon alone do not a proper salad make.  In fact, it probably only makes 5% of a salad, the remainder being forged from the coruncopia of legumes the salad bar does provides me. So, why does this 5% seem like such a big deal? Why do i obsess over it? How is it that such a small thing has come to define raison d’etre?

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