Why I Should Take Up Quilting.

    I was hungry, okay?

 

    Before you judge, you should know that I was starving.  I was ready to eat my own teeth just to ease my starvation.  Unfortunately, the only thing I found to eat on my drive home today was a poor, expired robin that had spent quite a bit of time roasting on the pavement being pressed like a panini from the passing trucks and busses, and the very thought that I could dress it up with a bit of parsley and some chives stolen from someone's nearby herb garden sent me into such a panic that I decidced then and there that the best thing for me would be to avoid the roadkill chicken and hit the Taco Bell drive-thru.  It's a step up, after all.  Not much of a step, but it's a move in the right direction. 

 

    So, I rolled up to the little speaker and told the happily warbling voice that I wanted to buritto supremes, and --what the heck?-- nachos.  I figure that should at least come close to covering all the major food groups (I have yet to embrace the food pyramid.  It's about as practical as the metric system in my world). 

 

    Anyway, I idled my way toward the window while doing some creative clutch, gas and brake-work while digging through my pockets looking for money. 

 

    And then it happened. 

 

    I got to the window, handed over my money, he gave me my change and then he asked me that manhood-shattering question: "would you like any mild, hot or fire sauce?"

    "Mild," I said without thinking.  Damn!  Why do I always say mild?

    "Mild?" He asked.

    "Yes, mild please."  I said.  Great!  Say "please."  No, he doesn't think you're a three-year old girl.  Why don't you put in an Air Supply CD and crank it up? 

    "You said you wanted hot sauce?"  He asked, tryng to save whatever manhood I may have had left at this point.  I wanted to bludgeon him with a challupa.

    "No," I said.  "I'd like mild."  

    If nothing else, I'm a man of strong convictions. 

    "Here you go," he said as he handed me my burritos. I felt as though it was Halloween, and I was standing at his door in a Hello Kitty costume, holding open a sack and begging for a handful of Sweet-Tarts. 

    "Have a nice day." he said.

    "Thank you," I said as I pulled away quickly, and ignored the speed-limit on my way home like the burly, fearless, manly man I am.  I revved the engine at every stoplight.  For a moment, I thought about hitting the video store and picking up some porn.  Unfortunately, I was hungry --starving.  I needed to eat.  And, I needed my mild sauce.   I know.  I'm weak.