Every few months my Cholesterol Low-Level Light blinks red and I must go in search of a cheeseburger. Today was one of those times. Grease used to be a mainstay of my diet back in the days I weighed close to 50 pounds more than I do today. Now I only indulge in grease when I can no longer stand one more moment without it — and I reached that point about 12:30 on Friday – I had to have a cheeseburger come hell or high water.
It wasn’t the very best time to go in search of grease. It’s raining and it’s cold outside. I’m still fighting some type of infection and the antibiotic I took has resulted in a blistering rash all over my neck which is driving me insane. But nevertheless I needed a cheeseburger so out I went.
I quickly discovered why I don’t go and order cheeseburgers very often. Cheeseburgers reside in vile places with less than stellar workers who, through no fault of their own I’m sure, are very unsatisfied with their lot in life. Although to be fair, I imagine they DO get all the free cheeseburgers for their lunch that they want. Still, it was not a Happy Place as I entered.
When I was finally waited on, I ordered a small cheeseburger without onions and a small order of fries. Pretty simple order. The clerk had difficulty with the cash register and the fact I handed him a 20 dollar bill for a $5 purchase. He had to make change — even though the computer tells him the amount to return to me, he had some difficulty with it. I had to recount and we had to do the transaction again to my satisfaction (and correct change back thank you).
Now keep in mind I have this horrid blistering rash on me and I”m wearing an open-necked tank top with a sweatshirt jacket but you can still see the marks. The kid looks at me and asks, “What happened to your neck?” I wondered to myself if I should tell him the truth or make something up. Well, the truth is never what anyone wants to hear and so I replied, “It’s just a little burn…the voices told me to do it.” His eyes got wide and he handed me a receipt and immediately looked at the next customer. I can’t help it that I was bored.
I get to my car and for some compelling reason reach into the bag, take out the cheeseburger, unwrap it and take off its top layer of bun to find ONIONS. So I re-wrap it, put it back in the bag and get out of my car into the rain and back to the burger joint. I walk up to the kid and hand him the bag and say in my kindest voice, “There are onions on my cheeseburger. The voices don’t like onions.” He took the bag, turned around and hollered to his buddy for another cheeseburger with NO onions – then he dumped out the fries and put new hot fries in a clean bag and shortly followed my new onionless cheeseburger. He handed it to me at arm’s length and never said a word. I smiled and left.
I like “grease” days. The voices are happy again.