Monday, November 06, 2006
I like my food like I like my internet
Fast.
Yes, I'll admit to being more excited about Taco Bell's new gordita than any new movie. Still haven't tried it...still plan on it, though.
But, as I was telling Cari the other day, it seems as if in New York, the land of the mom and pop diner, there is a stigma placed on fast food. I've heard people say countless times that they don't care where we eat "as long as it's not fast food." My heart drops.
What is with this fascination? My theory: it's inbred in Orange County and So Cal culture due to the extensive hours spent in your car. How many times have I swung by a drive through between work and church and ate in traffic on the freeway? Too many. The drive-through, one of the best inventions ever, has revolutionized car culture, and perhaps even created it. Not only do we need our cars to get places in So Cal (or pretty much everywhere but New York and other select cities), you can store things in your trunk (aka 12 pairs of shoes), eat in it, put your makeup on in it, dry your laundry on the back seat in the sunlight (spread out so it doesn't wrinkle), and use it to store books (you only need to stop by your car between classes). It is a necessity, which was most apparent to me in my senior year of college.
I love my car. Thank goodness my mother promised it back to me when I move back in December. Bucko, the now-off-white 1990 Nissan Maxima has served my family well in the past 16 years. He holds my high school tassel ( green and gold, baby), my broken Barbie keychain and most of all, my heart. The old school tape deck doesn't work, the back speakers are broken (all that ever comes out is buzzing...but the tone changes when I accelerate!), and there are chips all over (my dad has a thing for hitting inanimate objects). But alas, I'm in love.
So first thing I'll do when I get back to Cali? Hop in my trusty ol' Bucko and head off to In n Out. The best thing about a car is that it never complains about going through a drive-through.
Yes, I'll admit to being more excited about Taco Bell's new gordita than any new movie. Still haven't tried it...still plan on it, though.
But, as I was telling Cari the other day, it seems as if in New York, the land of the mom and pop diner, there is a stigma placed on fast food. I've heard people say countless times that they don't care where we eat "as long as it's not fast food." My heart drops.
What is with this fascination? My theory: it's inbred in Orange County and So Cal culture due to the extensive hours spent in your car. How many times have I swung by a drive through between work and church and ate in traffic on the freeway? Too many. The drive-through, one of the best inventions ever, has revolutionized car culture, and perhaps even created it. Not only do we need our cars to get places in So Cal (or pretty much everywhere but New York and other select cities), you can store things in your trunk (aka 12 pairs of shoes), eat in it, put your makeup on in it, dry your laundry on the back seat in the sunlight (spread out so it doesn't wrinkle), and use it to store books (you only need to stop by your car between classes). It is a necessity, which was most apparent to me in my senior year of college.
I love my car. Thank goodness my mother promised it back to me when I move back in December. Bucko, the now-off-white 1990 Nissan Maxima has served my family well in the past 16 years. He holds my high school tassel ( green and gold, baby), my broken Barbie keychain and most of all, my heart. The old school tape deck doesn't work, the back speakers are broken (all that ever comes out is buzzing...but the tone changes when I accelerate!), and there are chips all over (my dad has a thing for hitting inanimate objects). But alas, I'm in love.
So first thing I'll do when I get back to Cali? Hop in my trusty ol' Bucko and head off to In n Out. The best thing about a car is that it never complains about going through a drive-through.
# posted by ange : 10:30 AM
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