Oh how I wish this was interesting.

Last night I headed to dinner at Bennigans. Where I almost ordered the Guinness glazed chicken & shrimp. At the last possible second, I opted for a buffalo chicken sandwich, so I could get fries. I didn't pay attention to the fact that the chicken would be breaded & fried. And oh my, was it fried. To a crisp. And then some. You may be thinking "Yum-O" if you watch too much Rachel Ray, but none for me, thanks. I like my chicken grilled. In any case, I choked it down. The fries were good. There was so much oil involved in the chicken, that I'm pretty sure I could have pricked my finger after and greased a cookie sheet or two.

In any case, I had made a decision beforehand that I was going to Caribou afterwards for a chai. I like my chai. So despite the fact that I felt disgusting, I went anyway. Gimme my chai. I ran into Mr. Caribou, even though he isn't working at that one anymore. He likes to be around his peeps. "Whaddya drinkin today?" Mr. Caribou has a knack for drink suggestions. I said I was having a chai because I really don't know what else to drink when it's cold since... I don't really like coffee. I KNOW. Shoot me. Anyway, he suggested next time I get a shot of white chocolate. Meh. I said really I'd just like the chai to be spicier. "Get a half a shot of extra chai."

I'm sorry, what? Can I do that? Just get more chai in my CHAI??? "Go tell J. to put an extra half in right now." Oh how I hate to take things back. I mean I really hate it. I eat things I shouldn't, just to make life easier for everyone. I feel bad even asking for skim milk in my chai when I order it.

But I did go back & ask for an extra shot. Maybe because I still felt so wronged by that buffalo incident. And yeah, they stared at me. In fact, J. yelled to him, "Why Mr. Caribou? Why extra chai?" But he gave it to me. And you know what? Chai perfection. It's all I can do not to get in my car right now, and go order another. Heaven in a cup. May your chai always have 1 1/2 shots.

This was all followed by a wretched night of sleep. I mean, terrible. That chicken yelled at me all night. I just watched the minutes tick by in agony. Not to mention, both of the girls have colds, and EVERY TIME they cough, I wake up. One cough. I can't sleep through it. My children are ill. So just as I could quiet the flashbacks of greaziness, the coughing would start and I was up laying awake for another half hour. Dying from grease poisining. Morning came all too soon.

But oh sweet Caribou. I feel like the scales have fallen from my eyes. All this time, and all I needed was an extra half shot of chai? I'll be back, my steamy friend. And I will ignore the poster that says to spit in my chai, labeled "Picky Chai Girl." I won't even notice. And I'm certainly not sending it back. Not now.