Grilled Glory

In every office building there are two kinds of people. Those who refuse to eat out of the vending machines, and those who fiend for the treasures within. Even as a vegetarian I manage to fall into the latter category. There's just something I love about cheap food that comes out of a machine. It's like I'm living in the future or something.
So earlier this week when I found myself lacking a lunch I trucked on over to my trusty provider The Wheel Of Death and to my surprise there was a new item awaiting me. I had to shield my eyes to keep from being blinded by it's brilliance. Sitting before my very eyes was a microwaveable grilled cheese sandwich.
No single invention of the last decade has impressed me more than this sandwich.
"How do they keep it from getting soggy?" I thought. Oh ho ho! Some brilliant engineer (possibly working for NASA) developed a metal bag that actually grills the sandwich in your microwave!
I quickly dug $1.75 out of my pocket and fed an assortment of coins into the machine. One quick flip of the door later I was holding the epitome of space age foods in my unworthy mortal hands.

Now I don't know who this "Buddy" was, nor am I sure how he knew that Texas Toast was at it's best when stuffed with 2 kinds of cheese but somehow he did.
The sandwich wasn't too heavy, but clocking in at 425 calories and 16 grams of fat it managed to give me the impression that it was going to be quite the hearty meal. Oh yes.

I nearly succumbed to the urge to tear it open like so many hot pockets before it until I saw the warning.
"DO NOT OPEN PACKAGE BEFORE COOKING" it demanded.
I asked myself, "What the fuck?"
Conventional logic tells us that if we don't tear a hole in at least one end we risk popping the bag mid cook.

But I reluctantly ignored my nagging sense of microwave etiquette and placed it in the microwave.
T-Minus one minute, thirty seconds, until my taste buds were to be blasted into the next fucking century.

Upon removing the metal wrapped treat from the microwave I noticed that the bag had contracted slightly. I couldn't help but wonder if maybe a phenomena encountered every time one placed metal in the microwave. Not one to get distracted I made a mental note to conduct more research in the break room at a later date.

The moment was upon me. In a fervor I snatched the sandwich from the bag and began devouring it. This was indeed all I had imagined it to be. I felt as if the cheese, and the toast were mixing like so many reactive chemicals and the result was an explosion of flavor. It wasn't until I was nearly halfway through my feast that I remembered I was supposed to be taking these pictures.

After meticulously wiping the grease off of my hands (as not to make the camera all icky) I went back to documenting this epic moment in human history.

Peeling back the top layer revealed that Buddy was no liar. The sandwich did in fact include two kinds of cheese. Both the Swiss and the Cheddar families were represented.

This set me off like a fat kid at the buffet line and I made short work of the rest of my grilled cheese dream.

Even so, I was still left with a feeling of pain deep within my gut. And this pain my friends, was not sandwich induced. No, this was the pain of regret. Regret that for all it's beauty, for all it's majesty, and for all it's wonder, that when all was said and done I was really only left with a greasy plate and no quarters for my laundry.