On Getting Bread in the D.C.

I am gluten-intolerant.

It is a frustrating state of affairs, but there it is. Happily, my school dining commons, nicknamed the "D.C" (creative, right?) provides me with GF options.

A common snack of mine is bread with either mustard (yes, just bread and mustard yummmmm) or bread with peanut butter and honey.

Now to understand GF bread, one must understand that gluten is a binding agent. Thus, when not present the baked good in question is often dense, crumbly, and dry. The prevent such tragedies commercial GF bread is vacuum-sealed.

So here I am, getting my lunch. Sadly, the bread has not been opened by the kindly DC snack. I do not know why this is, they normally open it.

The bread is kept in a handy-dandy plastic container. To get to this handy-dandy plastic container I have to bend my handy-dandy 5"8' frame awkwardly in a room swarming with handy-dandy  students. And since the bread has not been opened I am stuck trying to break through Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic. I had just tried the third yank with my teeth when I heard a smooth voice say, "Can I help you?" And there, behind me, my knight in shining armor wielding a pocket knife of amazing usefulness.

Just kidding.

What really happened was I took out my handy-dandy swiss army knife. Sadly, a fellow student who had obviously never had contact with homeschoolers began screaming about terrorists. Mayhem. Luckily, the police believed that I was just a good little (and very hungry) county girl.

Ok, this is what really happened:

I tried to very discretely take out my pocket knife so the above did not happen and as quickly as possible, slit Ye Olde Impenetrable Plastic to remove the bread. Which was so dry and crumbly I couldn't get it out. I tried this piece, that piece, praying I didn't have Ebola 'cus if I did the GF population were goners.

Finally, bread crumbs raining around me as I emerged victoriously to eat some bread and honey.