Chilean goodness

We had a very productive meeting today at the restaurant owned by a coworkers fiance's family. Fiance who is from Chile and subsequently from the same region that co-worker served his mission. So we stuffed ourselves with empanadas and alfajores and all kinds of good Chilean stuff. My one issue with Chilean food though, what's with all the mayo? I'm not a big fan of mayo. The thought of it makes me gag. So don't look at me like I'm weird for ordering my sandwich without the evil white/yellow goo.

Oh, and did I say we were productive, because we weren't. Actually, we spent the majority of the time talking about how coworker and fiance met and the ring he's getting for her today, and how other coworker's (that's plural) fiance's proposed, and how the other coworker's (plural again) proposed to their wives. Yes, you got it. I was the only single one there, and only one person was older than myself. It was actually kinda sweet, hearing the guys talk about what they did, how one forgot to get down on one knee because he was nervous, and then all at the same time, nauseating. But I'm not bitter. It's just a world I do not belong to.

And I probably have a slightly negative perspective on it all seeing as how I am now in a food coma and feel like a lifeless blob that must in some way resemble a human, because someone just waltzed into my office and spoke to me with no look of horror on their face whatsoever.

Alfajores are good stuff. The after effect isn't my favorite. It's a good thing I don't do hard drugs, because I can't seem to handle a simple serving of sugary, caramel delightfulness.