I only do it once a week. Doubled-over, holding my stomach, pleading with my intestines. Indeed, the pain is excruciating.
This week is no different. I’ve found myself back in line, waiting to be asked, “May I take your order?”
One-by-one, I devour each lightly-salted, ever-so-golden, French fry. And now for my extra-greasy cheese burger…