A couple of nights ago, after running several errands after work, The Hubs and I finally decided that it was almost nine and we should probably eat dinner. However, we could not agree on something. I wanted Wendy's but somehow ended up taking a turn too far from one. He was not keen on the Wendy's idea so he was more than happy to throw other suggestions. They ran the gamut but I didn't feel like any of them. I finally just made him decide before my stomach ate the baby. He decided on Boston Market.
We walked in and it was close to closing time but weren't phased by the fact that the sides were well congealed with burnt bottoms. I struggled with the menu because I had chicken for lunch and I wasn't feeling much like turkey. Then, I saw an ad on the wall advertising ham and I got so excited. I LOVE Boston Market's ham. They used to have it on the menu and then one day it just vanished into thin air. I was so happy to see it again, I did a dance and The Hubs hates when I do that. When the guy asked for my order, I could not say "ham carver" fast enough. He nodded and walked away and I jumped up and down and clapped (something else The Hubs hates).
Two seconds later he came back. "No more ham."
"Just get a salad. You like the salads here," The Hubs said in a not so subtle attempt to derail my fury train. A salad was not ham. If i suggested a salad instead of his beloved meatloaf, he would have laughed so hard he peed his pants.
I eyeballed the menu again but nothing was striking me. Meanwhile The Hubs put in his order while i struggled.
"You want to leave, don't you?" He asked me. I nodded yes. "But you can stay and eat your meatloaf while it is warm and i can get something after," i offered. "No, I'll just get it to go and you can get something else."
The dude at the register put the nail in the coffin. "This was the last day for ham. It was just a holiday special."
"Of course it is!" I shot back. "First it was the Cosi veggie muffellatta, then DQs butterscotch dip it and now this. Honestly, I don't know why you ever took it off the menu in the menu in the first place. It obviously sells well because you are out of it."
"We ran out hours ago," he said not helping his case.
"See," I said. "This furthers my theory that there is a conspiracy against my uterus. I have a craving for something and it gets swallowed into the black whole of retired menu items. Why now? I don't understand."
The guy at the register was obviously perplexed by my rant or the term uterus. The Hubs paid for his meatloaf and I stormed out but not before saying I was through with Boston Market until they bring back the ham. Something else my husband hates to hear me say because he knows in a week or two I will be back just like I go back to Cosi and Homegoods and all the other stores I stormed out of over the years. I just need to cool off.