The Cheesy Creep

Being somewhat of a cheesy actor, I thought it fitting to venture downtown for the Grilled Cheese Invitational. As the name suggests, the event is a competition to see who can create the best grilled cheese sandwich. There are 3 categories: Missionary (standard cheese, bread and butter), Kama Sutra (any cheese, bread, butter and other ingredients) and Honey Pot (dessert sandwich sweet in nature).

It seemed like a splendid outing and so, with buds Karma and Nicole, I jumped on the Metro and cruised from historic Union Station, through the fabulous food fest and trinket-laden Olvera Street, to join a queue half a mile long. After an hour drooling in line, we were informed that judging tickets were all gone and we would only be sampling the free Kraft Singles sandwiches. Better than a kick in the pants, but, after a further 20min wait in another line, the tiny triangle, albeit free, did not fill much of my belly.

So we headed back to Olvera and scoffed down some cheesy Mexican fare instead, washed down with a couple of Dos Equis and a churro. A rather good way to spend a Saturday; out and about with other humans and feeling almost normal. But that feeling was short-lived. As I arrived home today, I held the elevator door for a woman just entering the apartment building. I asked what floor she wanted. She said I should just go to my floor and that would be fine. No, she wasn't flirting. She was afraid to give me her floor number, lest I follow her out. Yup, even when I'm smiling and being friendly and nice, it seems I still come across as creepy.

Good to know I haven't lost my touch...

PS. Fear not, Incognito, the blog will continue unfettered!