I’m not an actress, but I am on a TV show at my college. Simone (that’s his last name) and I met in a management group when we were sophomores, one of those projects where you spend more time with your teammates than with your mattress and inevitably come out best friends; in any case, he runs the TV station. Simone needed a Demi-Goddess of Darkness and I needed a new hobby. That is how all great stories begin, isn’t it? Well, we were filming this morning, and having been up late last night with Dani, I had time to shower and get dressed, but no breakfast. Shoots are a blast because you have loud, funny, musical people in one place, and there is much singing of Lady Gaga, dancing, dirty jokes, and usually Double Stuf Oreos. On days that we forget the Oreos, Simone and I go to Minella’s.
[If you are from the area, then you realize, Aha! The Main Line! She lives on the Main Line! This narrows down the possibilities of her college to Swarthmore, Eastern, Cabrini, Villanova, Bryn Mawr, Haverford, and St. Joe’s! And if she took management, that narrows it further to Eastern, Cabrini, Villanova, and St. Joe’s. And if she is from North Jersey, then the clear victor is Villanova. (Just kidding. But you know it’s true. Where else could I go to school and make new friends… who went to my high school?)]
So Simone and I went to Minella’s.
Lauren’s Pick: Two eggs, scrambled, with an English muffin at Minella’s, next to Chili’s on Lancaster Ave. in Wayne, http://www.minellasdiner.com/
Minella’s is the place to be for Sunday brunch on Parent’s Weekend. It is an absolute mob scene, and you can easily wait for 45 minutes to eat a steaming, tender pile of pancakes. Needless to say, these are good weekends to avoid, and a true collegiate individual chooses the 2:15 seating.
Simone’s best friend from home is making a guest appearance in the show, and so the three of us sit and agonize over the pages and pages of food on the menu before Simone and I victoriously declare our picks, which are the same every time: for him, a black-and-white milkshake and French toast, for me, two eggs scrambled with an English muffin, and for his friend, a toasty golden brown Belgian waffle.
The food arrives and we eat. All is silent. Ketchup is retrieved, a second bottle tapped, salt and pepper are passed, and we chew, and we swallow, and we eat. Fluffy, moist eggs, crunchy home fries, and a piping hot English muffin with the most tender innards I’ve ever tasted. It was blissful.
After the meal is finished, we good naturedly argue about who is letting who pay, and then we split. After all, my last shoot for the series is tomorrow, and if anyone on campus can watch my Oscar-worthy death scene, then I need to get to the gym.