So, I was sitting at a restaurant called “Samba Cafe” on La Septima and was quite happy because the Internet connection actually works on a frequent basis. I was even happier when I saw the menu included items such as the Napolitano Sandwich, which comes with mozzarela, tomoto, pesto, and an Italian salad. So I ordered the Napolitano and started writing about camping near Table Rock Lake in Missouri and was happily enjoying my mozzarela, olive-oil drenched sandwich when suddenly, the Good Lord himself made his presence known in my life. My plate (and sandwich) went flying across the restaurant, resulting in 20 people turning to look at me, attractively covered in pesto and olive oil as a casualty of this occurence.
Because I can’t find a rational explanation for a plate spontaneously flying (not falling — flying) off a table without my even touching it, I can only assume that God decided mozzarela wasn’t good for my cholesterol. On one episode of her show, Oprah says that when you’re on the wrong path, God first whispers, then pushes you, then knocks you over. I guess I must have ignored the whispers and the pushes.
However, I am most angry that my sandwich was NOT replaced.