This is it folks: Super Bowl week. And I am PUMPED. It’s gonna be a great game between two fantastic teams. And when it’s done, I’ll hand over a shiny new Lombardi trophy to the winner of the 2013 Super Bowl, right here in beautiful New Orleans, LA.
I do have one question though: why does all the food in this town taste like it has spit in it?
Yesterday morning, for example, I ordered up a room service breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast and coffee, and I swear that everything tasted like spit. And I don’t mean just clear, watery saliva, because who could taste that, right? No, I’m talking about full on, snotty, hock-a-loogie type of mucousy spit.
Obviously, no one in the kitchen of a New Orleans hotel would intentionally spit in a guest’s breakfast, especially when that guest is the respected commissioner of the National Football League, as I am. So I assumed it was just a local seasoning.
But then for lunch, I grabbed a sub at Quizno’s, and damned if my turkey on whole wheat didn’t have the same taste! And when I lifted up the top bun to see what was creating that greasy flavor, you know what happened? A bunch of long, goopy strings stretched out from the meat to the bread. Kind of like spit would look, I assume.
What could possibly be causing this? The employees at the Quizno’s seemed nice enough, and I could tell they recognized me because I saw their eyes go wide the minute I walked in the place. I even heard one of them whisper, “Look, it’s him!” Clearly, they were pretty star struck, so they obviously wouldn’t smear phlegm onto my food. But what’s causing it then? Something in the local water supply, maybe? If so, I’m surprised the residents haven’t complained to their local officials about it.
Anyway, last night for dinner, I went to Galatoire’s on Bourbon Street. The place is a five star restaurant with an impeccable reputation, and I was looking forward to a nice, gourmet meal. I ordered one of their specialties, the ribeye bordelaise. My waiter sort of grinned and said he’d make sure that the chef would prepare it “just right.” So I was really ready for one delicious cut of meat, you know? But yet again, there was that spitty flavor. On the steak, in the potatoes, I swear even the wine looked like there was something kind of slimy floating around in it. I didn’t want to be rude, so I ate everything, and I think that pleased the staff because they were all watching me and smiling. But I tell you, I’m getting pretty tired of this.
If that same gross taste is in the food again tomorrow morning, I’m going to complain to the desk clerk at my hotel. But I doubt it’ll do much good. I’ve been telling them for days now that the complimentary toothbrushes they give me smell like they’ve been up someone’s ass, and yet that nasty odor is still there every day. This town is weird, man.
