Wednesday, April 05, 2006

Religious Experience

I was in Boston yesterday. I thought I was visiting on a business trip, but I was wrong. No, God sent me to Boston--specifically the Boston Convention Center via Amtrak--to give me a message: "Champion, things could be worse."

I've been complaining about the lack of a TB in Midtown Manhattan, and fighting to open one will be my cause until the day I fucking die. But on the other hand, I do have numerous dining options including, but not limited to, McDonald's, Burger King, Subway, Popeye's (closing soon), pizza, cheap Deli food, expensive bullshit Deli food, and cart food (hot dogs and gyros). God sent me to Boston to show me what life would be like without these options.

This is what it is like:

This is the "dining car" on Amtrak where I had breakfast. Needless to say, I could have purchased three TB value meals for the cost of a stale Nutrigrain bar and an orange juice on Amtrak. My lunch was even more disheartening. I ate at the convention center's "Food Court." When I think of Food Court, I think of a plethora of delicious fast-food options where mom can get crappy Chinese and I can get TB. Not this Food Court. They had a meager selection of non-chain eateries catered by the convention center itself. The result was a $15 refrigerated Italian sandwich. Barf.

The critics out there are misreading this daily manifesto of mine and concluding that I see the world as black-and-white. That TB is white (symbolizing good) and everything else is black (symbolizing bad). Perhaps I've come across that way, but it's not how I feel. By sending me on a pilgrimage, Jesus reminded me that there are shades of gray (symbolizing a spectrum between good and bad).

I have two reactions to this religious epiphany, and as I commonly do with religious thoughts, I've put them in bullet form.
- Thank you, Jesus Christ, for reminding me to appreciate my lot in life.
- While things could certainly be worse, things could also be better. You know how.



Number One Fan said...

I hope you didn't get the Southwest Chicken Snatchwich on the Amtrak. Or if you did, that you didn't get it microwaved. It's called a snatchwich for a reason -- the bun gets warm, clammy, and loose like an old and dirty version of its namesake.

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