The Gyro Grenade

We had a fantastic time in New York.  I am only embarrassed that it took me this this much time to get out there.  We adored the people, the food was fantastic, and there was sooooo much to see.  

Our first night in New York, Wendy put together this really nice blog post.  Then we learned that we had evil possessed internet service (that is right both evil and possessed, try to get your head around that).  It would let her spend a lot of time uploading the pictures and then cut her off right before it actually posted.  

She made a couple more unsuccessful attempts before throwing in the towel, literally (ok, maybe not, but I love it when people say literally, but mean figuratively).

I asked for permission to post post-trip daily about daily events in NYC.  I present to you DAY 1.

Central park is beautiful.  We spent a lot of time there.  We wandered through the park on DAY 1 (caps necessary) for hours.  We noticed a girl eating a  delicious looking gyro.  She directed us to a stand a couple of blocks away.  

There was a line of about fifty business peeps waiting to be served, which we took to be a good sign.  I expected that it would be about a thirty minute wait.  I did not realize that the soup Nazi was based on a Gyro maker.  It was just like that Seinfield episode and we were out of there in about ten minutes.  (Just like it, I even played the part of a short bald man.)

We then found a place in the park at which to eat.  

A side note-  Wendy is not clumsy.  In fact, if anything she is adroit.  Side side note- Wendy hates all words that have the "oi" sound in them, e.g. adroit.  This leads me to say things like "Although it is moist in Detroit, the adroit people seem like they are on steroids given their exploits."  I then watch her pantomime her own death. Good times.

So back to the hugest gyro that I had ever seen.  

Side bar- I don't know what it is or why it is, but Wendy went on about a six-year streak that began on our first date.  Every time she ate something that would stain the clothes that she was wearing, the food would make it onto the clothes.  

Example- Eating spaghetti in a light blue dress.  One hundred percent chance of collision.  Eating a saltine wearing tan pants.  Zero percent chance of spillage.  

This has abated somewhat as of late, but it still happens enough that I expect it.

I open my tin-foiled encased gyro and start to consider how I am possibly going to eat it- "Son of a!"  Wendy bellows (well, technically Wendy is incapable of bellowing as her voice is too high (and pretty, did I mention that I find it to be very pretty)). I turn my head to find that the Theory of Staining has righted itself.  Almost the entire contents of the gyro had traveled from the bread onto Wendy.  Lettuce, chicken, grilled onions, and sauce.  And it appeared as if the bread had been spring-loaded as the splatter was fantastic.  

Wendy glared.  I laughed.  I laughed hard and long (An eleven-year-old that we shot (well, took pictures of) during the trip told wendy that I have a weird laugh).  Wendy glared deeper and more intensely (if these have separate meanings, I am surprised).  This cycle continued for a while.  Day one was fun.

Salt Lake Utah   Lifestyle   Photographer
Salt Lake Utah   Lifestyle   Photographer
Salt Lake Utah   Lifestyle   Photographer
Salt Lake Utah   Lifestyle   Photographer

BLUE LILY | Lifestyle Photographer | Salt Lake City, Utah