Sometimes the afternoon slump hits hard. You’ve learned the hard way the boss isn’t too keen on naps. You could try cubicle exercises to stay awake, but that stuff is for chumps. What you need is sugar. Or caffeine. Or both. Sneak in a quick trip to Latin Pig, and you’ll get the bump you need to coast through the rest of the day.
Choose your poison. Need sugar? Order the pastelito de guayaba con queso. It’s a flaky pastry, seemingly with millions of airy layers, stuffed with a guava/cream cheese filling. If it’s not lovingly made by somebody’s abuelita, they’ve got me fooled. For extra wakey-wakey power, boost that sugar rush with a shot of caffeine, like the cortadito (an espresso shot with steamed milk).
For a more novel approach to your sugar fix, try the Ironbeer. Containing neither iron nor beer, its flavor profile is difficult to describe. Some have called it a “fruitier Dr Pepper,” but I’m pretty sure I’ve nailed it when I say it’s like Coke mixed with baby aspirin. Neither description probably sounds like an endorsement, but the stuff is quite addictive. The can’s musclebound logo encourages you to believe you’re drinking liquid strength. Plus, it’s loaded with sugar, and that’s all you really need to know when you need to make it through one more meeting. If you have time to stay a while, the atmosphere here offers a nice reprieve from monotony. Don’t be disheartened by the restaurant’s unassuming façade or the fact that it shares a shopping center with Kroger. The aqua-bowtied waiter will usher you to a cushy booth where you can wait to receive your goodies, chandelier sparkling overhead. Over the stereo system, a Latin crooner implores you to listen about “besos” and feeling “estupido.” You may not know much Spanish, but the emotion translates. “Yup,” you think. “Estupido besos. We’ve all been there, buddy.”
Shake it off, man. There’s no time for thoughts of love lost. Chug that coffee and/or soda, wolf down the pastelito and speed back to the office before anyone notices you were gone. By now, you may just have enough manic energy to get naps written into the company’s wellness policy.
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