I landed in Raleigh, NC last night for a partial week at the corporate mother-ship. I matriculated through the various processes mechanical at the airport until reaching the point where I got in my rental car and the viscous mechanisms of the travel industry set me loose.
I was free, alone, and hungry. I set forth into the jungles of the Research Triangle Park to find sustenance. And lo’ did I come to a chicken place, and it was closed. And then a burger place, and it was closed. Greek, natch. A house of the noble taco, the same. The grocery, closed.
It is 9pm on a Sunday, and in this burg it would seem that if one wants anything but pizza or a gas station “sandwich”, you better damn well have made plans prior to 9pm.
I chose to assault my stomach with a burrito of sorts purchased from the sad commissary of lost and misbegotten food stuff, and prepared in my hotel microwave.
I have since come to the wisdom that this was a poor decision, and regretted it.
Onward to battle.