I love new T-shirts! Although to be honest, I'd rather have 4-XL. (Yes, I'm a big'un.) But 4-XL and up are very rare unless you shop online, and if you're not there in person you don't always know exactly what kind of a T-shirt you're getting. A fabric which is soft, which breathes, is very important to me in my $8.99 T-shirts marked down to $4.99. You can go to a man's big and tall store. Big & tall stores are fantastic, but they're also very pricy from my perspective. And that large store (Meijer's) happens to be near a Pancheros Mexican restaurant. So today, besides T-shirts and briefs and a belt (couldn't find suitable shorts), I got my 2nd Pancheros burrito in my life. Oh my goodness. I'm not the sort of person who says, "I shouldn't eat that whole thing" (You see the cause-and-effect with the XXXL and 4-XL T-shirts? It's there, if you look), but that burrito, under $8 out the door, was so big that I said, "I shouldn't eat that whole thing." But it was so delicious. And Pancheros has a fresh tortilla press, which I've never seen anywhere else.
I'm not the kind of guy who posts photographs of his lunch on Facebook and recommends dining establishments. Mostly because I realize that my palate is not sophisticated. I'm bred from centuries' worth of Central European Protestants who felt too guilty to allow themselves to enjoy food. (Which certainly didn't prevent a lot of them from being overweight.) I've only been able to partly un-do that psychological damage during my lifetime. So maybe my amazement over Pancheros doesn't really mean anything, to real foodies. Still, if you've never seen a fresh tortilla press... You order a burrito, they take a lump of dough, 2 seconds later it's the size of a tortilla, then they fry it a little bit on the grill, then they ask you what you want on your burrito.
Okay, maybe you foodies have each seen a bazillion fresh tortilla presses, what do I know.
When I got back home the power was back on. I haven't heard anything more yet about my Federal Disability case. I'm trying not to worry about it. Trying and failing.
An employee at Meijer's made me feel physically small. Very few people ever make me feel that way. He had to be at least seven-foot six. I'm not exaggerating. In the parking lot between Meijer's and Pancheros, the key stuck in the ignition of my Saturn. Wouldn't turn, wouldn't come back out either. After panicking for a few minutes, I remembered that I had solved this problem before. I didn't remember exactly what to do, but I remember that the fix was in the owner's manual. What you do is, you turn the steering wheel hard left and right, even if it's frozen, and while you're tugging on the wheel, you turn the key, and boom shaka-laka, your Saturn Ion starts right up.
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