Top Ramen Pt. 2

After bagging my things, I exited the store and headed to my shiny new sports car. As I was parking my cart next to my whip, an older gentleman at least 60 years of age paused in front of me. He asked if he could tell me something. I just knew he was about to compliment my beauty. I was going to be receptive seeing that he was walking towards a pearly white BMW. I stopped, smiled and said a polite "sure."

He said, "Why are you purchasing top ramen? That stuff is bad for you."

I responded, "It's a guilty pleasure I guess, like a Snickers bar."

"There's about 1200 milligrams of sodium, plus MSG in that stuff. You should never eat that junk."

"Wow, I never realized what I was eating. I've been eating these things for years."

"How about you make your own soup using tortellini?"

"That sounds like a great idea. I actually just bought a honey sesame ginger sauce that would go great with pasta," I said proudly.

"Look, I know things are rough in college. You don't have a lot of money or time. But you look like you eat healthy. You're dressed nice, have a nice car. Give that stuff to someone you hate."

"Did he just say in college? 31 is the new 21!" I thought to myself.

"Yes sir. Thank you for the information. I'll return them."

"Good choice. Take care."

"You too. Thanks again."

Although puzzeld, I went in and exchanged the top ramen for some Topo Chico mineral water.

I believe in signs. My take on the encounter was simple: I'm no longer a top ramen chic. I carry myself like a caviar queen. My aura exudes Matsutake mushrooms and Japanese Waygu steak. There is nothing wrong with upgrading my swag. I've worked hard for it, and I deserve the best. I am worthy of every great thing. I must treat myself with respect. Mind, body and soul. That means being more mindful of what I choose to put inside my temple. No more top ramen.