Don't Blame Me, Blame My Stomach

Many people have told me they want the Yangblog life. They want the freedom. They want the creative work. The want the international travel. They want the choreographer-dancer wife. People who want my life ARE NUTS.

Here is the essence of the Yangblog life:

To live the Yangblog life is to have people HATE YOU for unintentional reasons ALL THE TIME.

Last week before my regular poker game, Jordin Isip asked me to get a chicken parmesan sandwich from Frank's Trattoria. I also got one for myself.

When I arrived, I gave the sandwich to Jordin. He stared at me and asked, "Did you ask the other guys if they wanted a chicken parmesan from Frank's?" I said "no". Only then did I notice that everyone except Jordin was filled with HATE. I've never had the chicken parmesan from Frank's. It is a just a sandwich. From some guy named Frank. Yangblog did not understand what was the BIG FREAKING DEAL.

Until I took my first bite.

Frank's chicken parmesan is the BEST SANDWICH ON THE PLANET. Every bite was so delicious that I wanted to yell, "DAMN THIS IS A GOOD SANDWICH!", but didn't so the guys wouldn't kill me. One player was our friend's wife who is very pregnant. She wanted to kill me too.

As Jordin was happily eating, he made sure to mention he ALWAYS asks if anybody wants chicken parmesan from Frank's. I sat silently and wanted to cry. Not because everybody at the table hated me, but because I had finished my sandwich and there was no more sandwich to eat.

All this sandwich talk has made me hungry.

I think I'll go to Frank's and get a chicken parmesan sandwich.

Please don't tell anybody.