By Leslie Lindsay
Okay–better late than never, right?! I have been working on chapter 3 revisions of my novel-in-progress with writing partner (in crime), Christine B. This darn chapter is the bane of my existance. Partly because it’s so long (over 20 pages; and so many words I lost count around 5,000). It was also a challenging chapter because there is actually a teensy bit a truth to it. (You know us writers often write for catharsis, right?).
So, after about 4 go-rounds on it, I present you “The Sprout:”
[Remember, most of this is fiction. It is not for stealing. Or borrowing. Or claiming as your own.]
He pulled the Volvo into a parking lot, put the car in park and came around to open my door. I recalled her words again: When a man opens the door of a vehicle, it’s because the car, or the woman is new.
“We’re here. One of my favorite places to eat.” Vibrant yet chipping paint coated the tiny building. Your basic college dive.
“The Green Sprout?” I twisted my nose slightly.
“Um, yeah. I’m a vegetarian.”
Really?! Mom would have a fit. I was thinking a chicken salad sandwich from Marti’s would do the trick…and those homemade pita chips.
“They have some great stuff here. Come on, I’ll show you.” Joe placed his hand on my shoulder and steered me into the restaurant. Butterflies tapped in my stomach.
The smell of The Green Sprout pinched my nose, reminding me of health food stores and the spice market. Joe and I stood staring at the chalkboard menu in front of us for a few moments, Joe pointing out the things he liked best, among them, the Good Fortune Wrap. I nodded and reviewed the list of ingredients as I cocked my head: tofu, sprouts, peanuts. What is wrong with this guy? Definitely not from the south. I grew up eating fried okra and chicken fried steak. There was always plenty of butter and creamed gravy. For dessert: blackberry cobbler ala mode. We southerners don’t eat that way every day, but we sure don’t eat vegetarian. What was I going to eat here?
“Um…Annie, if you want, we can go someplace else,” Joe offered.
I waved my hands, “No, not at all. You’re expanding my horizons, and I like that,” I winked. A flirty wink. God, what was I doing? And with a vegetarian. I wonder if Pierce is a vegetarian?
I chose the quinoa and black bean salad with a side of cornbread. Hey, at least I found some comfort in that food. Yet, I was disappointed that when they didn’t serve Coke.
If it’s not organic, you can’t have it at Green Sprout.
***As always, thanks for reading and providing comments! (Most interested in your response: does this seem like an authentic Athens, GA vegetarian dive?)***