B & E Fridays

Thursday, April 29, 2010

No, this is not a post about some secret weekly criminal habit of mine. It’s a post about eating, which is much safer, easier to do more often and I’m sure infinitely more satisfying than breaking & entering.



One of the things I miss the most about my old job is Bacon & Egg Fridays. The sandwich shop near my old work made the most fantastic two-egg and bacon toasted sandwiches. Slightly runny egg yolks, soft bacon, thick fresh bread and just the right amount of butter and salt. I think this approximates to about one metric heart-attack’s worth of butter per sandwich or some similar technical measurement. You could feel your arteries hardening with every bite, but you didn’t care because they were pure heaven.

*what the internet does not allow you to see at this point is me pausing to wipe the drool from my keyboard at the thought of these glorious sandwiches*

Bacon and Egg Fridays made what is already the best day of the working week even better. Sadly, after changing jobs, I am now without a sandwich shop. This means that Bacon & Egg Fridays are a thing of the past. My heart is saying thank you, but the rest of me is devastated.

Normally, I don’t eat breakfast at all. It’s not that I don’t like breakfast, it’s just that I can’t be bothered. I’m lazy, and I don’t usually get hungry until about midday anyway. Bacon & Egg Fridays were my one day a week of providing my body with the sustenance it needed to make it through to lunch. You need that extra push on Fridays, especially if you’ve had a week as busy as the one I’ve just had.

So I think that tomorrow, because it’s been a busy week and because the cold weather has started to properly set in, I might drag myself out of bed just that teensy bit earlier than usual and make a stop out of my way at a sandwich shop to resurrect Bacon & Egg Fridays just for one day.

1 comments:

Mike said...

I used to bring my own bacon and eggs to work for breakfast, until the day an egg cracked in the lunchbox and turned the inside of my bag into a giant puddle of yolk.

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