So wrong, so long

Oh, Frist Center Cafe, what a disappointing boyfriend you are. How I wish I could make you the good cafe on the outside that I know you are on the inside. But every time, every time, you treat me wrong. And for a while, I don't talk to you. But then you lure me back, beckoning me with the lunchtime promise of tasty soups, salads, and sandwiches, and then you fail to deliver yet again.

When I got sick from your portobello mushroom sandwich, I should have learned. But I didn't.

When I got sick from your portobello mushroom sandwich AGAIN, I should have learned. But I didn't.

When I spent $8 for two slices of turkey on a greasy panini cooked on a industrial-sized George Foreman grill, I should have learned. But I didn't.

When I waited a half-hour for a CUP OF SOUP, I should have learned. But I didn't.

When that soup turned out to consist of four miniscule pieces of mushy carrot drowned in vegetable broth with more sodium than the Great Salt Lake, rendering it completely inedible, I should have learned. But I didn't.

But today, today you did it for good, Frist Center Cafe. Today I saw one of your food handlers leap over the counter, stick his (gloved, food-preparing) hand into a GARBAGE CAN to retrieve a mistakenly discarded receipt, AND THEN RETURN TO PREPARING FOOD WITHOUT CHANGING GLOVES. That, Frist Center Cafe, that is the straw that broke this camel's back.

Today, I have learned.

We're through.