When did the meatball sandwiches end?

Quintessential lunch at Wegmans today.

As Matt and I carefully located our sushi, turkey wraps, sweet potato chips and pear and provolone salads, I noticed a bunch of dudes who walked in with dirty, ripped t-shirts and big ass boots. I watched their entire lunch grabbing spree as they grabbed meatball subs, Fritos and Mountain Dews. As I stood there in my stellar polo shirt and nicely ironed khaki pants, I wondered when it all changed. When did my lunches become so ... sensible and ... healthy ... and non "guy" like? How did Matt and I start eating when we first started going to Wegmans every day for lunch eight years ago? I wouldn't change a thing, but it was a telling moment. Most people eat lunch at their desks or in a cafeteria or on a picnic table and don't give it much thought. Matt and I? We philosophize the entire time, and I friggin love it.

But it gets better.

After downing our lunch and taking the last sips of our Honest Teas, Matt and I gave each other the look. Not that kind of look you heathen ... the look that said "Let's shop". So off we went to the aisle where we spend most of our time, the candy aisle (Sounds creepy, huh? Two 40 year olds cruising the candy aisle).

Matt was reading up on all the exotic chocolate, like this ridiculously priced "bacon bar":            

When he came across another one that he vehemently hated and vowed to never eat again:

Just as he was ripping on all things chipotle and chocolate, a woman came up to him and said "Seriously? That is my absolute favorite!" That led to a ten minute discussion on high end chocolate between the three of us that was as stimulating as any conversation I've had in a long time. And the best part was that we never found it to be odd or uncomfortable. In fact, it was right in our wheelhouse. What have we become?

After the last sea salt and caramel dissertation ended and we said our goodbyes, Matt grabbed his purchase for the day and we headed out. And I swear to you, I am not making this up, this is what he bought:

"Love poem inside"? Bet construction boot guys would approve,eh?

TGAL 

Goodbye Tony Soprano

John here: I still hear the theme music in my head from time to time, "Woke up this morning, got yourself a gun", and wish I could watch Tony Soprano walk down the driveway in his robe to grab the newspaper one last time.

No show has ever pulled me in more than The Sopranos and not only because the backdrop was my beloved New Jersey; the writing and character development was near perfect. Important plot points were never wrapped up in a nice little bow and I found myself hating the characters I loved most of the time. It was messy and that was appropriate. Even the "fade to black" ending makes so much sense now and was a brilliant way to end it all.

So in memory of James Gandolfini, I've asked Matt to interpret three different photos of Tony Soprano as only he can. If I was an obsessive watcher of the show, Matt was obsessive to the 2nd power. He's that guy who has every line from the Pine Barrens episode memorized.

Off we go ...             

Matt here: First let me say that I am crushed that James Gandolfini is no longer with us. He was a tremendous actor who created a memorable character that will go down as one of the best in television history. Rest in Peace Mr. Gandolfini.

Photo #1

This is Tony at his best. Clearly pissed off and annoyed. No, it's not by what is going on at the table, but by something he's still steaming over that happened back at the Bing. Maybe someone ate his Lo-Mein that he had hidden in the fridge that he was thinking about all the way there or maybe it was just as simple as him finding out Vito was seen at a bar wearing a motorcycle outfit dressed like one of the Village People. That would piss me off too.

Photo #2

This is clearly the crew going to have a sit down to discuss who said "Ginny Sacramoni had a 95 lb mole removed from her ass.".  Now that's not nice.

Photo #3

This one reminds me of the softer side of "T"; charming, respectful, family oriented, one who brings his wife furs and jewelry for no reason. This is not the face of a guy who would whack Ralph Cifaretto over a horse or sleep with Svetlana, Gloria Trillo, Irina, Valentina or Charmaine Bucco. Nope, not him.  

Lunch time annoyances

Two recent observations while dining at Wegman's:

1)I want to smack parents who allow their children to drink soda on a regular basis 


Yes, from time to time, my wife and I will allow the kids to drink a soda, but it is only on the rarest of occasions. I've observed these forgivable situations when the child grabs a soda bottle from the shelf, holds it up in front of the parents eyes and begs and pleads to have it. The parent will usually say "no" but once in a while said parent grimaces, exhales and gives in reluctantly. They know they are allowing a pile of crap to enter their child's body and they can't believe they are OK with it.

I can deal with that parent.

The parent that infuriates me is the one who continually allows their child to drink the stuff each and every day as if they never heard about how bad it is or that it is the # 1 reason kids are unhealthy.

And they wonder why their child is an insufferable brat post sugar comedown 

These oblivious parents need a friggin smack. They are the ones who need protection from themselves as Mayor Bloomberg of New York had suggested. You dopes should just pour the sugar bowl down your kids' throats

       
41 grams of sugar? Have you not heard of the internet or Dr. Oz? C'mawn people.

2)I despise parents who push their kids in those car-like shopping carts

  
Wegman's (where Matt and I eat lunch almost daily) is a supermarket with an out of this world "market". So as we grab our lunch each day, we semi-interact with "food shoppers". Most of these shoppers are mom's in expensive workout gear who succumb to their child's wish to ride in these giant mobiles. I'm pretty sure these moms have never uttered the word "no".

As you may imagine, these mack truck like wagons don't take corners very well and even worse, can clog up an aisle as mom looks for her favorite coffee sweetener. They are a nightmare. All so the kid can turn a plastic wheel for a few minutes.

Without fail, the child eventually falls out, knocks over a display and screams bloody murder.

F'n brilliant shopping cart marketers.

       

Two Guys at Lunch return - part XIX

Matt and I haven't written in almost six months. It is equal parts lack of time, laziness and real life getting in the way. But that is neither here nor there (which is a phrase I have despised for decades but I'm placing it here as an inside joke ...  for who, don't really know).

Anyways, I have pretty much mastered the art of over promising and under delivering during my blogging days. But that is not going to happen again. Write it down ... but in pencil.

No more over the top goals of getting in prime physical shape.

No more talk of becoming a vegan (maybe a one week trial?).

No more missions to seek out NJ urban legends and report back.

Nope. We are going to keep it simple. Pinky swear.

We are who we are (which is so much more meaningful than "it is what it is").

And that is two 40 year old men who have families, love bad sports teams, love bad TV shows, talk about working out like we are still 19 years old, read food labels at Wegman's like we are professional nutritionists, get annoyed at things that most people never notice and most importantly, cherish our lunches during the work week.

That is where we shine.

That is where we are smarter than Dr. Oz, funnier than Chris Rock, more knowledgeable about pop culture than the entire staff at Entertainment Weekly and more angry and annoyed than Denis Leary and George Carlin combined.

Let that soak in for a a minute ...

Got it? Good. Now remind yourself to check back in regularly for gosh darn good old fashioned entertainment.


Sincerely,
Two Guys at Lunch