Yesterday three co-workers and I had to travel to a distant land called “La Mirada” for a client pitch. After the shock and confusion of having to leave the west side abated, we wondered, “but like, will there be Wifi?”
We decided to carpool, and as we neared our destination, a strange wave of happiness and calm washed over us. We saw strip malls with giant parking lots. We saw Bed, Bath, & Beyonds. We saw Chili’s Bar and Grill.
After a surprisingly successful meeting, we decided to celebrate with lunch. We were debating places we could eat at back in La La, when our account girl suggested quietly, “there’s an Olive Garden around the corner.”
We looked at each other, as visions of free salad and bottomless breadsticks danced in our heads.
“Lets do it.”
We sped to Olive Garden. We parked right in front. We walked in and were shocked.
At 1 PM on a Friday, the entire restaurant was packed. PACKED I tell you! Packed enough that we had to wait to be seated. Kim looked at me and asked in all seriousness, “is today a holiday?”
“Maybe it’s like…Abraham Lincoln Day?”
Maybe every day is a holiday in Suburbia.
After our wait was over, the waitress led us past parties of twelve to a table next to a fake fireplace. We had a delightful lunch full of laughter, carbohydrates, and Olive Garden-branded Andes mints.
What a wonderful treat to get out of this crazy town and behave like normal humans for an afternoon.
You can take the girl out of the suburbs, but you can’t take the suburbs out of the girl.