First I located my gate, bought a couple of North Carolina tee shirts for Julie and myself (and resisted the call of additional ten dollar pashminas), then consulted the airport directory since I hadn't passed the destination dining yet. Okay, I was on Concourse C, and the Taste of Carolina was awaiting on Concourse B, in all it's tangy yumminess.
At last I arrived, seriously debating the wisdom of remaining in business clothes for the return trip (I thought the extra height of the heels might enable my feet to better rest on the floor from my seat on the plane), and I found a table in the back, near the windows. I requested a sweet tea from the server (how can you be in the south and not enjoy a sweet tea?), and opened the menu. It was a freaking California Pizza Kitchen menu with a different name and logo on it. I looked around, and sure enough the place was connected in the back to the California Pizza Kitchen restaurant that from the concourse appeared to be two stores down. Damn them! But I went with it. I mean, I was sitting down, I would get a decent meal at a table with real utensils and I wouldn't be facing the hungry horrors on the flight home.
I ordered the Chinese chicken salad, which sounded just delicious in the description. This is what I got:
Yes, the server walked over to the California Pizza Kitchen section, carefully picked a pre-made salad out of the To Go case, and hand-delivered it to my table for my dining pleasure. After suppressing my astonished giggle, I dug in with my plastic cutlery that was nicely wrapped in my paper napkin, and enjoyed my salad in its plastic container, along with the sweet tea in a plastic cup.
At least I tried.