Soul man

For dinner, my co-worker took me to a little divey soul food restaurant. It was a no-frills kind of joint in a strip mall where we were the only non-African Americans in the entire place.

I was stoked to have a real meal after yesterday's airport food and this afternoon's sandwich at the company cafeteria. But now, even four hours after the meal, I'm stuffed. That's what I get for ordering fried chicken, collard greens, dressing (I had never heard the term before. Basically, it was gravy-covered stuffing.), corn bread, peach cobbler and a diet coke (served in a styrofoam cup!). And we wonder why Americans are fatty boom blatty.