Lunchtime excitement

Of two entirely different types:

1. A few weeks ago I had a craving for a jerk chicken sandwich (minus the hot sauce, of course). Luckily for me, there's a decentish, kind of hole-in-the-wall Jamaican place not far from work - the hole in the wall aspect somewhat implied by the words Pit and Jerk being part of the restaurant name. I didn't have all that much time -- was heading to a meeting or some such -- and was a bit worried since they can be kind of slow there (to put it mildly) but decided to privilege the jerk chicken craving over time constraints.

I walked in and there was just one person behind the counter making what seemed to be rather complex to-go meals for four service-type guys sitting waiting at a table in blue workshirts and matching blue pants. And matching mustaches and paunches, now that I think about it. It took a long time, during which she didn't acknowledge me at all, and I stood at the counter trying to decide, "stay? or go? stay? or go?" except I couldn't come up with a good non-jerk chicken alternative. Plus there comes a point when you feel like you've invested so much time that you should just stay, you know? She finally finishes all their orders (and do you really want curry goat between fixing air conditioning and heating units?) and takes my order and my five bucks. Just as my money goes into the register, two guys walk into the place, flash badges, and say "Police, nobody go anywhere. Did you just receive a box in the back? Let's go back and take a look." And suddenly my sandwich maker is gone, along with the errand guy who had been running around behind her. The phone starts ringing, and then all four are standing behind the counter right by the entrance to the back part of the restaurant. No one is making my sandwich. "Don't answer that phone!" says one of the cops. "Don't even go near it!" Then there is a short interrogation, who is the box for, are they holding it for them, when are they expected? Meanwhile, I'm just standing there in front of the counter, waiting. Do I want them to still make my chicken sandwich? Should I just sacrifice my five bucks and leave? Then what will I have for lunch? I'm hungry! Maybe 10 minutes or so goes by, no one seems to even notice or care that I am there, and finally I give up and tap the taller, bearded cop on the shoulder (so undercover this guy, with a t-shirt that's not all that clean and icky baseball cap - I think I'd step into the street if he was walking towards me on the sidewalk). "Um, can I get my money back for my sandwich?" I ask politely. "Can either of you make her sandwich?" he asks the bored-but-defensive-looking employees currently being semi-interrogated. "Uh, I think maybe I'll just go," I said. And got my money back. And left. What was in the box? Seeing as we're talking Jamaica here, I was leaping to some obvious conclusions. But I never found out. What's worse, of course, is that I never got my sandwich...

2. Today coming back from my run around the lake I saw a groundhog. Just sitting in the grass, eating. How cool is that? (Many thanks to Colliculus and Prairie Landing for explaining the other day that my previous groundhog sighting had not been a beaver. Mid-Atlantic types know so much sometimes!)