Keep it Classy, Kate

I have written so often about falling on my butt, my social foibles and my acceptance of my own flatulence I should really consider renaming this blog, "Keep it Classy, Kate" in the same tongue-in-cheek vein of the current title. Well, here we go again.

On my way home from yoga today I began daydreaming about all the amazing foods Chicago has to offer. All of which I wanted in my mouth, right that instant. As there are no restaurants on my way home where I could indulge in vegetarian hot wings, hummus and tabouleh, I decided to stop by the grocery store to purchase all the items necessary for an international smorgasbord.

I have done this a million times. It is always a bad idea. Learn from my tale of woe and just hit the restaurant. Any restaurant. Once you sit down you will realize everything on the menu looks great and you will find a reasonable meal. That is not what will happen if you go to the store immediately after class.

In the Whole Foods I found myself surrounded by little yellow sale signs attached to wonderful looking foods. My international smorgasbord gained new countries with each isle (GUACAMOLE! OMG!). Eventually, basket overflowing, I ran into the last isle, pre-made foods and THE SALTY FOODS BUFFET. They call it an "olive bar." They are liars. Only 1/3 of that bar is olive-related. 100% of the bar is salt-related. In my weakened state, I was helpless to say no to the unreasonable amount of post-yoga salt-replenishment my body desired.

Did you know that layering tiny gherkin pickles over rosemary olives does not effect the flavor of either...if you eat them cookie-monster-style in your car on the way home?

One more problem. By the time I got to the check-out counter my thirst had kicked in. I am unfortunately a very stingy person. It's fine to be a very stingy person, but not stingy and Jewish. It reinforces the sterotype.* So when presented with a giant yellow sign saying that the San Pellegrino is on sale for less than any of the other bottled beverages I did not think twice about purchasing it. Even though it was the massive bottle meant to be shared by multiple people at a picnic or other equally classy group event.

By this time, I was so thirsty I opened up the S. Pellegrino and quaffed it right there at the check-out (AFTER paying for it, I'm not that tacky).

I did manage to make it home, sans a $15 tub of salty-food buffet, and made myself a lovely meal of home-made yogurt with tabouleh, red pepper hummus and remnants of a very large bottle of S. Pellegrino. So I guess there's that.

Keep it classy, Kate!

* Like being Italian and talking with your hands you put people in the uncomfortable situation of being racist anytime they do an accurate impression of you.