The "Deepest" Bowl of Queso I Ever Did See

Tonight I went to a super amazing event- media and athlete-filled and I had the connection to get a free pass. It was seriously such a fun time.

I left a little early because sometimes I pretend to be crowd-averse.

Ended up at the bar in a restaurant in my local hood. (Is that still cool to say?? I feel like I’m always at least 3-5 years behind)

Anyway- I ordered a drink. It was great. Made a call to a friend. Even better. Ordered an appetizer- queso- pretty simple.

The place was empty. I was considering whether or not I looked pathetic sitting there alone. Whatever. Just go with it.

10 minutes pass. 20 minutes. A half hour strikes.

Ok, now I’m irritated. I am a nice person…But when the place is empty and it’s late and I order something as simple as queso??

Seriously, how long should this take?!

I snag my check and leave- patting myself on the back for even giving the woman a 20% tip, nonetheless one at all, considering how ridiculous that whole situation ended up being.

Ridiculous is a good word for it, honestly. On my part, at least.

Like, truly. I got in my car and I couldn’t help but be slightly embarrassed- annoyed at myself even.

It’s not like I acted a fool. I honestly was pretty cordial- even tipped the gal!

But my thoughts- oh man. Those were embarrassing.

The fact that I even began to get annoyed over a bowl of QUESO. MELTED CHEESE YOU GUYS. Marked up probably at least 2000%. Zero nutritional value. C-H-E-E-S-E.

Yeah, that is what internally almost set me off.

My god.

Not to turn a mole hill into a mountain, but there are people who would kill to have my problems.

Ones who deal with actual sh*t. Broken families, biased treatment based on who you were born to be, etc.

The list honestly goes on and on.

People who would give anything to have their issues surround a f*cking bowl of cheese, basically.

How’s that for a reality check?

Like, shoutout to my credit card for working.

To my car for getting me there.

To the semi-bougie event that I got access to for putting me in a position of “hanger” in the first place.

But more importantly, to my PRIVILEGE for even, albeit momentarily, enabling me to feel this way.

So yeah. It was a deep bowl of queso. To say the least.