Lunch Quest

It might surprise some people to know that I was never much of a lunch person when I was younger. I'd have a sandwich or something small and get on the playground as quickly as possible to maximize my recess time. Eating was secondary to running around with my friends, or running away from bullies. When I was sent to a private high school, I became more of a loner, not wanting to make new friends. The cafeteria had tables of four which we weren't allow to move, so a guy either found 1-3 people willing to accept him, or sat alone. I sat alone for the first two years, occasionally only buying an ice cream bar or a boxed tea, then using the remainder of the time to wander around our enclosed courtyard or admire the fishpond. As courtyards go, with its brick design, aforementioned pond, and well tended plant life, it was well disguised for what I considered a prison. I saved a lot of money, and though some went to the thugs waiting to shake down the smaller students at the end of the lunch line, a lot went to a comic book store about a mile away.

By Junior and Senior year I found people to sit with, even a friend. By college, there was no set schedule for lunch. Depending on their availability, my class schedule could fluctuate from semester to semester. There was a central area, a subbasement inexplicably called a “mezzanine”, where art students gathered for classes and between classes. Two or three hour gaps found me sketching, sculpting, painting, or shooting the breeze with kindred spirits in what we affectionately called “the Mezz”. Once in a while we'd venture off campus for food, or to the cafeteria. I leapt at invitations for the social appeal, though clumsy eager statements like “Sure, I haven't eaten since breakfast!” led my friends to think otherwise. In truth, food did gain as much importance as the people I was hanging out with.

After college, I got a job at a company in my home town. At first I'd simply come home for lunch, and in my youthful eagerness to please my employers I'd sometimes sit at my desk for eight hours straight. This only lasted a few months thankfully, and while my parents were concerned about me spending my salary going out to lunch, I liked venturing out to delis, pizza places, and even Chinese restaurants with my coworkers, especially one cute girl I ended up dating for a few years. Those were good times in which I not only tried foods previously foreign to my limited palette, but gained an addiction to Mocha Frappuccino®s. I gained more than an addiction in those days and though my weight has gone down as well as up over the years, I haven't seen 150 lbs on my scale since college.

Four years later, I started my second job out of school. It was a larger company with its own cafeteria, and since I already had one good friend there(Rey), I could tag along with his group for lunch, at least when he was there. At first the others didn't always invite me along when he was off, which gave me opportunities to explore the neighborhood on my own. As good as the cafeteria was, there were some great places in walking distance and better places in driving distance. In time I took for granted working in the center of the world I knew.

Food was expensive, and despite more than doubling my salary, I could still hear my parents' voices cautioning me not to blow all my money on food. For a while my mom would make me sandwiches, which I'd never admit. “What? No, I make my own sandwiches.” That was well enough for days when we ate in the cafeteria, but when people ventured outside I wanted to go along with them. Sometimes I'd just order a drink; other times I'd order food as well. Many was the day I had a sandwich and a slice of pizza, just to justify sitting in an establishment. My friends of course had jokes, but at least I was able to call them “my” friends by that point and not friends of a friend. When I couldn't take the jokes, I switched to microwave meals. I'd heat these up before walking in to town, and it was fine on a sunny day sitting on a bench or at a table. Bee season was never fun, and I remember one unnecessarily “heroic” dive to grab my food and flee down the block screaming, “THEY'RE AFTER MY CHICKEN!!!” It took a year, possibly two, but I eventually gave up on the whole bringing my lunch thing, much to my mom's concern and disappointment.

After seven-and-a-half years, I can't say that I hit every food place in an eight mile radius, but I came very close. I developed some favorites, and tried new places as they came to town. As the lunch crew evolved, a kindred spirit like B13 had an appreciation for meals and socializing that rivaled my own. Some things, like sushi, never crossed my plate, but I did hit a fair number of restaurants the me of the past never would have gone to.

After two-and-a-half weeks at a new job, I do miss being in such a central location. The town I work in has its fair share of nice restaurants, but only two fast food places. I've gradually explored the area, testing the limits of my lunch hour as I venture further each day. I've found a lot of wealthy residential streets that I didn't know existed. I've driven for miles without seeing any place to stop, only to turn around and head back. Not once but twice now I've lifted my ban on Taco Bell. I've hit a deli, a pizza place, a bagel joint, a Chinese restaurant and a SUBWAY. I've gone to lunch with a friend at work a few times, and though he lives in the same town as our company, he confessed that he and his wife usually eat dinner at home. With me there now, he expects he'll discover all the food places in his area.

Indeed, it's become a quest. Driving aimlessly has had both positive and negative results. Once I ended up eating pizza sold from a counter in the back of a yogurt place, and it wasn't good. Another time, I drove for nearly an hour without finding anything, only to double back to the Taco Bell five minutes from my office. Cravings have led me to do online research prior to lunch, punching my company's zip code into various store locaters. KFC™ and Wendy's® are a hike, but doable. There are a few central places where I could meet friends from my old job, though more time is spent traveling than eating. Mall food courts are an impossible dream, as is McDonald's®. I can live without McDonald's®. In fact, I'll probably live a lot better.

Some people go to work, and think about going home to their families at the end of the day. Somewhere between college and my last job, my day became not about looking forward to five o'clock, but to lunch. The break in the middle of the day is so important, even if I go for a walk or a drive. I don't know how 21-year-old MCF could sit at a computer for eight hours straight. I've stopped talking about my lunch quest when I come home, to avoid my mom's inevitable questions: “Do you want me to make you a sandwich? Why not? Why don't you bring your lunch? You'd save a lot of money if you brought lunch...” Maybe she's right, but beyond finding food I like, just the journey and the experience itself contribute so much to my sanity and happiness.

Of course, “sanity” is a relative term when I've considered whether or not I could make a 10 mile trip to an Arby's™ and back that includes driving on an expressway. Oh, I'd never make it, but I've been tempted...