On the way home, I decide to pick
up a Frosty. To placate myself? To reward myself? I realize this is not a
healthy habit. Emotional eating is not appropriate behavior. Swoosh yourself,
advice-giver. I’m out of health class. I’m reasonably healthy! How much cholesterol
is in a Frosty?
Maybe I should actually look this
up.
The menu is so full of options
that are not for me, though. I’m a vegetarian. And yes, that includes fish.
Meaning, I don’t eat fish. And when you look at what’s left behind, it’s sort
of narrow. Plus, what’s the idea with the vanilla Frosty? And a Frosty float?
Please. Let’s not be ridiculous. Do what you do, and do it well. You do French
fries and Frosties. Chocolate Frosties. I shouldn’t even have to say chocolate
in front of Frosty—that’s what it is. You don’t say “water snow”, you say snow…
because that’s what it is. Do I have opinions? I do. But I also have the truth.
On my side.
“Yes, I’ll have a medium fries
and a medium Frosty, please?”
“Is that a chocolate or a vanilla
Frosty?”
[a beat]
“A chocolate Frosty, please.”
[another beat] “Thanks [inaudible] for
making me answer a question that should not ever be asked because an
alternative should never have been created, because why would you even attempt
to improve upon perfection in such a lame way?”
“Your total is three forty-nine.
First window, please.”
A surprising number of cars.
Everyone wanting his or her reward. Making it through the day! Sending files on
Saturday! Not getting what we wanted yet but signing the right request form
anyway! Asking for the chocolate Frosty even though it sounds dumb!
In every car in front of me – and
as far as I can tell, behind me, too—it’s one person per car. One person at a
time, we are lined up, waiting to be anointed with Frosty, in the early dark of
Saturday.
No comments:
Post a Comment