At the lunch buffet. Open the lid for the soup of the day and there’s a barcode sticker floating in it. Get the attention of a server, who dips a ladle in, uses fingers to pull out the sticker, then puts the ladle and the soup that had the fingers stuck into it back in the vat. I can’t stop laughing, my partner rolls his eyes.
That’s life in Indiana, I think. Adjusted to it as I am, I had a cup anyway, even though another server said a new container of soup was on its way. I was hungry!
(By the way, there are four places in my town that have serve-yourself soup at lunch, and I’m not saying which one.)
