The cost of lettuce

Naturally, I approached the buffet-style presentation of salads trepidatiously.  The women in the group responded naturally to the array of vegetative color, flitting about like happy little birds in a berry bush.  The men were more wary but were quickly baited by the mounds of meat topping the taco salad.  From  a very young age, I have been taught to not be fooled by appearances.  I only accepted candy from strangers driving vans that had untinted windows.  No apples at Halloween for me, no sir!  It gets trickier as you get older.  Now I must be informed of the nutritional value of everything I eat.  I am well-aware that there is absolutely NO nutritional value in a circus peanut (if, at this point of the conversation you are asking yourself, "What is a circus peanut?" then you may as well pop over to eatingwell.com.  I took their assessment tool and noted that I am well on my way to self-preservation...I'm practically pickled!)  but am lacking the motivation and care to completely abstain.  Any hoo...there wasn't a brownie in sight and my administrator had already tricked me this morning with a baked treat jam-packed with blueberries, pineapple and giant exotic nuts.  "They were Brazil nuts, Amy," she said in disgust, "honestly, you teach children!"  I immaturely spent the next half hour inviting everyone to look in my muffin.

Back to the bar.  I've never actually intentionally chosen lettuce as the center piece of my meal but, being a good sport (and starving), I loaded up with wholesome goodness and hoped that this wasn't going to mark a significant lifestyle change in the world of Amy Mosiman.  I observed the small containers of assorted salad dressings and decided to support the French culture.  We just recently got back from New York City and their generous gift of Lady Liberty still resonates with me...it says so much more than a gift card.  My first timid bite of salad adorned with French dressing was rewarded with a blast of heat that had me rocketing out of my seat.  I felt like a cartoon character who has steam exploding from her ears.  The French dressing turned out to be hot Buffalo wing dip dressing.  My attractive and very-pregnant colleague, daintily eating her own plate of rabbit food also coated in Satan's salad sauce, politely inquired about my dietary sensitivity.  I explained to her that 40 is the new 80.  This little foray into the land of healthy eating was going to cost me dearly in stomach pain and sleep.  Such is the cost of consuming lettuce.