Anyway, I think the fingerprint guy was secretly wishing he could pop my hands off my wrists. I wasn't trying to be difficult or anything, but he wasn't really forthcoming with the directions so I couldn't understand what he was trying to do. Now my prints are digitally winging their way to the FBI and Department of Justice for to have my background checked. I hope they don't find out about that time I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.
Afterward I looked at my watch and it was Noodle Time! mmm, Noodle Time--serving the finest in Thai-Japanese-Chinese noodles. I got the Beef Chow Mein (it's not just for British werewolves anymore). It smelled so good driving back to the office that I nearly pulled over and ate it in the car. Alas, I held out until I got back to my desk.
For the past couple of days, everywhere I look I see some cafe/coffeehouse/eatery advertising Boba. "What the heck is Boba and why is it so popular," I've asked myself. While waiting for my order at NT, I saw a poster that actually read "What is Boba?" I sauntered over. Boba, it seems, is tapioca. (insert involuntary gagging sounds) Tapioca? In drinks? (gags again) In case you haven't guessed by now, I loathe tapioca. Someone ordered a boba drink while I was waiting and the mixing and sealing machine was fascinating, but still, EW.