I decided to get Moe’s after being dropped off at my car since I would be passing through the part of town where it was. Actually, there is another one on the same road I live on, but it is pretty far away and may not even be the closer one. I prefer Chipotle, but was in the mood for queso. I looked at the menu that was posted on the wall and was immediately annoyed. It had kitschy item names based on movie and TV references like “Earmuffs” and “Art Vandalay” (which is actually spelled “Vandelay” on Seinfeld), but didn’t describe what the items were or what they contained. I ordered a chicken bowl for carry out and was glad not to be corrected on the name.

A woman and her son got in line behind me and asked me where the nearest cheesecake restaurant was.  I wondered if she meant the nearest Cheesecake Factory or the nearest bakery that sold cheesecakes. I was tired and didn’t feel like getting clarification, so I told her the mall had the nearest Cheesecake Factory. She looked back at her son and told him they weren’t going all the way over there. I agreed it was far away and told her that there are only like three Cheesecake Factories even in the whole state. She and her son left without ordering.

I had to wait to get shredded cheese because they had to refill the container. While I was waiting, I asked for some spicy ranch. The guy put way too much, and it was painful to watch. I had a lot of time for thoughts while he was squeezing the ranch onto my bowl, as it felt like it lasted much longer than it probably did. I told myself, “He’ll stop soon. He won’t keep going. I should stop him. I should’ve told him I only wanted a little bit. Oh well, I’m sure he’ll stop soon. Oh my God, that’s so much. This isn’t going to reheat well. Oh finally.” The cheese came and he didn’t put any on, so I stood on my tiptoes over the sneeze guard and asked about it. I did not get any queso.

At the counter, the cashier asked me if I got the Earmuffs. I said, “I don’t know what that means.” She asked, “Chicken bowl?” and I said, “Oh, yes.” She gave me the receipt to sign and the pen I picked up did not work. I tried to get the ink to flow by scribbling at the top and tore the paper. The cashier gave me a bag of chips and pointed to the salsa bar. I got a little cup of all five kinds of salsa, but only the two green kinds were good. Back at home, after I’d eaten half of the bowl and half of the chips, I wanted a bag of cookies from the vending machine downstairs. The machine would not accept my selection, even though there was a whole row full of cookies. I chose a fudge round instead. I ate half of it then wrapped it back up. I ate the other half a few minutes later.