“Two all beef patties, cheese, onion, pickles, mustard, ketchup in a soft bun, please. No, I don’t need french fries with that. And I’ll have a Coke zero, upsized, if you please.” I was already imagining the conversation.
It was one of those rare days of palate fatigue. Nothing I cooked at home tasted right to me even as everyone else thought it was great. There were still some leftovers from the previous day in the refrigerator and I hate cooking when I know there’s uneaten food that may go to waste. I was a little crabby. I was also a bit tired from the heat. Maybe I just needed a break from my own cooking. Whatever the reason was, I needed that cheeseburger… badly.
I got my wish late afternoon. With the coveted burger in my hand, I quickly made my way to a table near the back. I sat down immediately, eager to sate my taste buds with all that fatty, gooey goodness.
Nom nom nom nom nom.
I was almost back to my old self towards the last few bites. I sat down quietly for a few moments, taking in deep breaths, as balance and peace were restored to my soul.
Every now and then, when the world gets to me and my palate, a double cheeseburger is all I need to make it right.