Monday, January 4, 2010

It's all in the wording...

We ate breakfast at a hotel today. On the phone they had promised us a hot breakfast as well as the usual continental breakfast most hotels offered. Well, it sure sounded nice over the phone, bacon and scrambled eggs one day and omelets every other day.

Of course, once you get there, you realize what you imagined is not precisely what they said. Sure they had omelets, but they didn't tell you that the omelets were pre-cooked, pre-packaged, mass distributed concoctions that tasted like artificial goo.

The omelets looked perfectly fine sitting on the little platter under the heat lamp. If I hadn't been so preoccupied with how hungry I was and instead looked more closely at the surroundings I probably would have seen the early warning signs. When I cut a piece off the omelet I knew something was wrong, the cheese inside did not act like any sort of cheese I had ever met before, it oozed out in a orange trail and tried to mingle with my cinnamon roll.

I took two bites and then decided it was grotesque and completely not worth eating. But the biggest disappoint was they had no bacon. They had sausage instead. I don't like sausage.

So, today, I knew they would have to have scrambled eggs and bacon. I decided that I would get up early and eat a whole bunch of bacon before it was gone to make up for yesterday's lackluster and disappointing breakfast. But when I went downstairs, I found they did have bacon, but it didn't smell like regular bacon. It didn't taste like regular bacon either. I figured that it was just my brain playing tricks on me and I just needed to get used to it a little bit and stop comparing it to other bacon I had eaten before.

So I ate a couple slices. It still wasn't tasting better, so I buttered up some toast and ate the rest of my bacon in a sandwich. My dad told me to try some of the scrambled eggs. I picked up a small forkful and deposited it on my plate. It wiggled like congealed jelly and then slowly started to separate into various gruesome forms. I only had to take one small bite to realize these was not the eggs I knew and loved, but some sort of alien dish.

When I heard omelets and bacon, I thought of the homemade omelets I make for myself with extra sharp cheddar cheese and onions and fresh garlic. What I actually got was that conglomerate rip-off.

I guess the moral of the story is don't get your hopes up, or maybe it's don't eat eggs that resemble uncooked chicken fat.

~Song currently being played on my iPod:
Fading by Decyfer Down

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