"No, this is a good time. Did you bring your lunch?"
"Not today; did not feel like preparing mash and ground beef again." Sometimes I would prepare instant mashed potatoes and would cook ground beef with garlic and onion and that's it; lunch. It was terrible, but it was food.
"Let's go for a sandwich. Have you been to the sandwich bar at the pub?"
"No"
"Good, let's go. Oh, grab the blanket... it is there on the chair"
In those days the SFU student society was running the pub, and its cafeteria, where they had a sandwich bar. I have to say that that sandwich bar was probably the best food on campus at that time. The bar always had a big queue.
Those sandwich bars are like an industrial conveyer belt, with little time to think. When my turn arrived to face the attendant the preparation of my lunch started with a series of questions and answers.
"What kind of bread?"
"Hero please" - I just saw a guy asking for that kind of bun which was pretty big and a glutton goes for big.
"Mustard?"
"It's ok."
"Mayo?
"What is Mayo, ah; mayonnaise!" and my answer was "It's ok"
"Onions?"
"It's ok."
"Pickles?"
"It's ok."
"What kind of meat?"
"Ham please."
"Cheese?"
"It's ok."
"Chips?"
"Make it lots please"
"To go, or for here?"
"To go please."
"Anything to drink?"
"No, thanks."
The attendant wrapped my lunch and pass it to the cashier.
"$7.50 please."
"I'm also paying for your lunch" - pointing to Christina. To that, the cashier looked at the assembly line worker and the person responded with $4.50. Cashing-caching left a tip, and Christina and I ran to the park with our blanket and our lunches.
At the park we always set the green blanket on the edge of the shadow of a tree; we wanted to have options. We took position next to each other, unwrapped our lunches to get ready to eat and:
"What is this!" - I was in shock at the sight of my lunch.
"What's wrong, Jose?" - she asked in a worried voice, and leaning down to look at my sandwich she asked - "Wrong order?"
"No, my sandwich! Look at it! Only ham and bread! What is this!" - pointing at the internals of my skimpy sandwich.
"You didn't want anything on it; I was there."
"What? I said it was OK to put all the things they asked for! Cheese? It is OK; put it on! No, instead I get this!"
"Right, it's OK means NO in some circumstances, and in that case, it meant NO. Next time say that you want everything on it or say 'Yes, please'; problem solved."
"Gush; I just paid $7.50 plus tip for a hunk of bread and a few slices of ham! I did not even bring water!"
"I can share with you, here..."
Christina shared with me all the condiments of her food and my sandwich became edible. She always made things better for me, and that day was not an exception. She dedicated the rest of her life to me and our family.
Thank you, my love. I will never be able to thank you enough for your devotion. You should have been the one writing our stories, not me. Your control of the language was excellent, you were a paladin. The little I know today I learned from you.
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