The G-13
I've been, for some reason, feeling very light-headed all day. More than likely it's because I did too many crunches at the gym this morning after my three mile run, but on the off chance that that entirely fiction scenario isn't the case, I thought it might be a good idea to get some protein into me; balance out my "workin's" and counteract all the caffeine (coffee), salt (sunflower seeds) and sugar (coffee again and a pack of Wrigley's Doublemint) that was coursing through my bloodstream.
So I went to Charley's, which is the all-purpose mega-deli down the block from my work.
Side Note: These places, the ones that cater to the business community of Midtown and offer every kind of food you could think of and even some that only exist in parallel dimensions (I mean, who's ever heard of "sushi?"), have to make just an insane amount of money, right? They're always packed, the food is fairly low in quality, and they're the only game in town if you don't want to go the fast food route or pay 478$ for a bowl of under-cooked rigatoni at a sit-down restaurant... ergo, mad bank. At least that's my reasoning. What I'm asking is, anyone want to rob one of these places with me? We can pull down a fat score and get some corned beef. Who's in???
Anyway, I went to Charley's and I got The G-13:
Roast Beef
Melted Swiss
Lettuce
Tomato
Horseradish
In a word, "yum." And while it was, in fact, yum... yum-rageous, even... I do have one tiny complaint. My sinuses, once proud and upstanding members of my body's community of... uh... parts, I guess, are now shredded and blown-out like a crashing hot air balloon. They're wounded soldiers dying in the mud. They've been reduced to meat, kids... MEAT!!!
Why?
Horseradish abuse. Now, I like horseradish. A lot, actually, or I wouldn't have chosen this particular sandwich. But as with all things, there's a line with horseradish that must not be crossed and, today, the men behind the counter at Charley's sprinted across that line like Flo Jo at the Olympics. The G-13 is absolutely slutty with horseradish. It's sick with it. It bread and meat are Scrooge McDuck's giant vault, it's horseradish the gold coins, strong enough in their numbers for the cranky, talking waterfowl to take a nice, long swim.
Just in case my tortured, Scrooge McDuck analogy didn't make it clear, this sandwich had a whole fucking lot of horseradish on it and, currently, I'm without the ability to smell things.
So that was my lunch break. Anyone else run afoul of a mean-ass sandwich?
So I went to Charley's, which is the all-purpose mega-deli down the block from my work.
Side Note: These places, the ones that cater to the business community of Midtown and offer every kind of food you could think of and even some that only exist in parallel dimensions (I mean, who's ever heard of "sushi?"), have to make just an insane amount of money, right? They're always packed, the food is fairly low in quality, and they're the only game in town if you don't want to go the fast food route or pay 478$ for a bowl of under-cooked rigatoni at a sit-down restaurant... ergo, mad bank. At least that's my reasoning. What I'm asking is, anyone want to rob one of these places with me? We can pull down a fat score and get some corned beef. Who's in???
Anyway, I went to Charley's and I got The G-13:
Roast Beef
Melted Swiss
Lettuce
Tomato
Horseradish
In a word, "yum." And while it was, in fact, yum... yum-rageous, even... I do have one tiny complaint. My sinuses, once proud and upstanding members of my body's community of... uh... parts, I guess, are now shredded and blown-out like a crashing hot air balloon. They're wounded soldiers dying in the mud. They've been reduced to meat, kids... MEAT!!!
Why?
Horseradish abuse. Now, I like horseradish. A lot, actually, or I wouldn't have chosen this particular sandwich. But as with all things, there's a line with horseradish that must not be crossed and, today, the men behind the counter at Charley's sprinted across that line like Flo Jo at the Olympics. The G-13 is absolutely slutty with horseradish. It's sick with it. It bread and meat are Scrooge McDuck's giant vault, it's horseradish the gold coins, strong enough in their numbers for the cranky, talking waterfowl to take a nice, long swim.
Just in case my tortured, Scrooge McDuck analogy didn't make it clear, this sandwich had a whole fucking lot of horseradish on it and, currently, I'm without the ability to smell things.
So that was my lunch break. Anyone else run afoul of a mean-ass sandwich?
posted by Clinton at 1:16 PM
11 Comments:
some thoughts:
You are BOY A LICIOUS...did I spell that right? essentially what I am refering to is the fact that you mentioned A- running B- your abs C- food and D- type of meat products all the same paragraph...its like a running tab of a real man's mind or something...like 'blah blah blah LIFT WEIGHTS..blah blah MEAT PRODUCT...blah blah GYM blah blah FOOD'...."
or at least that is how I only imagine men's minds to work....
I'm surprised you have time to work, let alone eat, with your busy blogging schedule. [Please ignore my own commenting schedule.]
NYCponderings... Ha! Please note that any mention of me working out/lifting weights/doing crunches/etc. is meant entirely in jest. I haven't seen the inside of a gym since the time I stumbled into a Gold's thinking it was some sort of sub shop.
Mr. Shain... Suprisingly, I do get quite a bit of work done. I'm just really good at multi-tasking. Also, my job is semi-retarded-monkey-could-do-it easy.
Shouldn't you say Mentally Impaired Monkey.
Hey. Watch it. I spent many years in Monkey School to get where I am today.
i might feel the need to write an entire column just based on this posting alone...something like
-'the mind of men...meat and gym and gym;s not to be confused with places that sell meat'-
I temped at a shitacular insurance company on park ave in the 30s and my one saving grace of that entire HORRIBLE summer was the deli across the street (Lucy's? Lulu's? no idea) which had a roast beef, brie, watercress and horseradish "sauce" on french bread sandwich that I got approximately 3 times a week. I'd always ask for horseradish sauce on the side because they were way to stingy in doling that stuff out.
Now I'm not much of a condiment person...mayonaise, mustard, horseradish and even ketchup are all bleh to me.
I do however think any sandwich is better with melted cheese, guacamole or hummus. Is that wierd? Yeah, I know. It is.
Hey Clint, do you know what that feeling is called when you eat to much horseradish and the weird felling goes through your brain? Or am I the only one to get that feeling.
this post made me kind of miss the deli near my office when i was in nyc. who doesn't love a lunch (weighed by the pound) of boiled eggs, baby corns, cottage cheese, tomato slices, an eggroll, pineapple and some unidentifiable pasta salad? oh, i miss it. it all probably would've been better with horseradish.
Man, I would kill for a good Corned Beef sandwich loaded with horseradish right now... Thanks a lot Clinton.
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