Lost and Lonely Leftovers

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Permalink I’ve been writing lately about this particular seat on the bus and the wonderful little table that’s formed next to it by the housing for the bus’s wheel.  Well, I sat down in that seat the other day and found this little treasure waiting for me. Hair and all.
Permalink Found on the floor of my office, bounced from a tray of more-beautiful strawberries.  Note the hair wound around the nubs of the blackberry.  That’s likely the only thing that kept me from employing the 5-second rule on these babies.
Permalink My friend Alison just left NYC to move back to her much-beloved college town, but before she moved, she took this photo for me, which she called Farmer’s Market on the N Train. I’m kind of partial to Beans and a Boot, but hers is a little more poetic.
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Permalink Cold Stone Creamery’s new flavor: Tobacco Chocolate.
Permalink There’s a guy I work with who’s known as Big Salad.  Apparently he used to be a fatty but is now as svelte as can be thanks to his daily regimen of dumping half a bagged salad into a ginormous bowl and topping it with all of the meats and vegetables our office fridge can handle. After he left the kitchen the other day, I found this left behind on the flatware.  I silently cursed him for germing up the spoons, but I also secretly thanked him, too.
Permalink My friend Meredith is traveling to far-off lands (I wrote fart-off the first time) in pursuit of dissertation research but still found the time to send me this lovely WHOLE zebra-striped doughnut that her little dog no-doubt gobbled up moments later. I’d like to say it’s from somewhere exotic in Europe, but she actually spotted it on the street in our neighborhood in Brooklyn.  I love imagining the poor hipster who came home with only enough baked goods for 11 of his unwashed friends.
Permalink My extreeeeeeeeeeeemely prolifically-blogging friend Eric of the veeeeeeeeeeeery often-updated Park Slope Scope sent me this awesome photo the other day of one of the new blue-seated subway cars that have been slowly integrated into the NYC transportation system over the past five years, replacing the ones with the supposed-to-be-cheerful-but-instead-just-look-grimy-and-also-who-decided-on-that-taupe-colored-wallpaper-for-the-walls? orange and red seats. Clearly, this is a take-out box of chicken fingers and fries with a Slurpee from one of the handful of 7-Elevens that exist in Manhattan.  Which, by the way, never made sense to me.  You don’t have a Dairy Queen or a Panera, but you have multiple 7-Elevens? Yet when I showed this to two separate friends, both somehow believed that the blue part of the photo was the sky and asked me things like, “Why is that Slurpee floating in the clouds?” and “Why is there a line down the sky?” I don’t understand what I did to deserve this.
Permalink I found this immaculate cookie outside of the G. Esposito & Sons butcher shop in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn.  The question remains: is it better to have tasted and lost than to have never tasted at all? I believe I found this on the same block as the Unheralded Ham from the previous post, which I’m assuming means some slob had a delicious pork-and-pastry lunch.
Permalink If you leave ham on the hot pavement long enough, it turns into prosciutto.   Well, first it turns into regular old slimy, rancid, fly-feces-covered ham.  But then it turns into prosciutto.  True fact.