Fast Food Funky

I had a Subway Sandwich for dinner last night. Boquete's first fast food franchise is Subway and that makes me - I was going to say "a happy camper" but that's so cliche I just can't do it - Not that I don't use cliches; I use them all the time when I'm talking, (I need to work on that as well) but when writing I ought to be more careful, so instead of a happy camper I'm going with - an ebullient, which can mean "overflowing with enthusiasm," tent pitcher, although I don't really know what camping has to do with it in the first place. (Punctuation sticklers feel free to be hands on with this paragraph if hands on is not an over used cliche.) I love Subway sandwiches; the in-house baked bread, the chilled cold cuts, the fresh veggies - and here I was going to say accouterments but I don't know how to spell it - choices, the servers with their surgical white rubber gloves. It's all good I tell ya and I say that with the certain knowledge that both "it's all good" and "I tell ya" are cliches no longer in common use, so I am at liberty to revive them. And in addition to these wonders, you can, apparently, eat Subway sandwiches, lose three or four hundred pounds and get filthy rich - wait! Filthy rich won't do. Let's go with - disgustingly well heeled - no! Well heeled won't work either - fat banked. (Yeah that's good; lose body fat, gain bank fat) making commercials like that guy Jarod. This is such an appealing way to make money that I am considering putting on the necessary weight to apply for the job. However, to do that I would probably have to stay away from Subway sandwiches. These are the dilemmas we jubilados have to face.

There are days when the monkeymind can not be restrained without a whip and a chair.

RTGFKAR and I made another foray into lovely and talented David yesterday. This time to put in motion the process of obtaining RTGF's driver's license and series two of Finnegan the pup's inoculations. Only the latter went as planned. There were delays, crossed signals, waits and money changing hands to accomplish RTGFKAR passing his driver's test without ever leaving his chair. The certificate of such is now headed for Panama City where it will be approved and stamped - always the stamp in Latin America - and then sent back to David, after which, and this is just wonderful, RTGFKAR will be allowed to take his written test for which he has already paid someone to accompany him and provide the correct answers. After that, quien sabe? which is Spanish for who knows? and by using it I cleverly dodge the use of who knows? in English which is a possible cliche.

You may think I have now abandoned the theme of fast food restaurants but you would be wrongo Burger Breath. At one point in the day we were left with but a mere half hour to lunch; not time enough to even attract the attention of a waiter in many Panamanian restaurants. But lo! There on the horizon were the Golden Arches. A zip through the Drive-in where it is entertaining to speak Spanish into a speaker that returns your request in what sounds like Farsi spoken under water and we were on our way chicken McNuggets, fries and soda pops in hand. (In order to achieve the poundage necessary to qualify for Subway commercials, additional visits to Micky D's might be necessary.)

Now, you think, he will move off to another topic, but alas, Thick Shake Belly Rumble, you would again be wrong. There is more.

We had a third goal on our agenda ayer, which is Spanish for yesterday because I didn't want to say yesterday again, but now I have gone and done it anyway. That goal was to bring back KFC for Woowoo Charly. A couple of David trips ago I had forgotten to do that very thing. There was Big Trouble on the home front on that occasion and, as you know, Big Fun is my cliche of choice on an everyday basis. As we motored into Dolega, a town roughly half way home, it occurred to me I was remiss again. We had departed David in a New...Haven hurry, dog and people being - of course I was going to say "over it", but the monkeymind is still alert - distraught by the difficulty of the day and thus KFC was not on our minds. Well, maybe the dog's, but I can't be certain. What to do, what to do? Carry on I decided, and I'll think of something. When, after several stops, we arrived back at Casa Dragon Something - I forget what RTGFKAR named it - I had in my possession a nice pollo burrito, a Subway sandwich and a small box containing earrings and a necklace. These turned out to be adequate substitutions for KFC.

Alrighty then. It is late morning and I am now officially ravenous. "Hey Babe. Do we have any cheesecake?"

Watch out Jarod, I'm after your job.