On my Way to the U
Here I am at the airport. Today I’m flying to Minnesota for a show at the U, which I’m told is short for “university.” I just had an experience which I feel the need to share because it was so strange that it bears reporting. On my way to the gate, I stopped at one of those concourse shops to get something to eat. Normally I do not like to eat at airports because the food is always terrible. Today I was running late leaving the house, though, and did not have time to make myself anything. So, unless I wanted to wait until I have dinner at Prince’s house tonight in Minneapolis, I figured I had to get something to eat at the airport. (Plus, if you’ve ever been to Prince’s house you know he only serves weird Cuban/Chinese fusion food which leaves me gassy.) So after carefully considering my concourse shop food options, I reluctantly decided to get a Caesar salad wrap on a spinach tortilla. It seemed to be the least offensive of my options. Here’s the surprising part: it was delicious. I have never had an airport sandwich that wasn’t either too dry or too soggy. More to the point, I have never eaten any sandwich wrapped in cellophane that didn’t taste bad. This sandwich, however, was fresh. The lettuce was crisp, the chicken nicely done, the dressing applied responsibly. In short, a terrific, terrific sandwich.
What happened? How did my airport sandwich get so good? Here’s my theory: I arrived at the airport around ten thirty in the morning, which is about half an hour or so before lunch begins. When I got to the concourse shop, I noticed that the sandwich case was fully stocked, which led me to believe that the sandwich delivery had probably just occurred. In fact, it’s possible that I was the very first sandwich customer of the day. Which leads me to believe that it’s not the sandwiches themselves that are terrible at airports, but the fact that they are sitting for hours and hours which turns them terrible. They start out as perfectly lovely sandwiches. Quite possibly, as in my case, delicious sandwiches. It is only the slow, steady march of time which beats them first into mediocrity and then to sludge. And nothing is worse than sandwich sludge.
Time will destroy us all in the end; that’s the lesson I learned today.
(Note: I took the photo before eating my sandwich)