Need Help, Send Olives

Last night, I suffered about the eighth mediocre meal I've eaten since coming to this wretched swamp. The greatest insult: a glass of champagne so flat and funky that it had obviously spilled from a bottle opened three days earlier. So that's it, I'm done. I'm out. I can no longer endure Orlando's gastronomic crimes. Please, if anyone is reading this, overnight a care package with the following contents:

* A mimosa from Duke's City
* Baked olive and bread appetizer from 2 Amy's
* Falafel and fries from Amsterdam (please put lettuce, hummus and tahini on the falafel)
* Egg salad on rye from Loeb's
* Gnocchi with pesto from San Marco
* Cold smoked salmon bruschetta from Meze
* A Little Devil from Sticky Fingers

That ought to get me through the next week. My stomach, and my sanity, will be eternally in your debt.