The Number Two, No Pickles Please

         “Let’s see…a moment I regret you ask…well I couldn’t tell you that one it’s way too bad and you will all kill me! Well I guess now is as good a time as any other, especially with the Margarita’s to help me tell my tale! Ladies, I regretted it the instant it happened yet it was over before I had any control over the situation again. I became a caveman. Primitive. Unworthy to be associated with civilized people. I was possessed with the basic human instinct that escalated until I was out of control. I had nothing to do but obey my body’s cries. Don’t give me that look Cindy; you would have done the same in my situation. I would have taken on the ‘hunt and kill’ instinct if I didn’t do what I did. No. It was better this way for the greater good. As for me I have thighs the size of tree trunks still wondering how I had a McDonald’s for dinner. With large fries. And a chocolate milkshake.
        “It started like any other day. I was driving back from the beach with Courtney, Sara and Taylor fast asleep in the back of my car glowing red from our long day at the beach.  I was just indicating to turn down the interstate, and it was at that moment when my primitive instincts began to kick in. Yes, it was then that the monster in my belly growled at me viciously and with it erupted a pining of hunger from deep inside. It was something I had never felt before. As I tried to rationalize the situation it occurred to me that I had not eaten all day since we got up and left campus at 8am and spent all day at the beach. I usually always carry a healthy snack on me or something to avoid situations such as this one, like Jenny Craig told me to, but it was too late. The more I tried to interpret the situation and come up with a quick solution, the monster raged even more and thrashed itself against my stomach walls ready to tear apart anything that went its way.
        “And then I saw it. Like the North Star, I followed this bright yellow light in the shape of an ‘M’ standing tall on the side of the street, and I knew that it would lead me to what I needed- Food. It was McDonalds. After all those spinning classes we took together Alexis  and that time we watched ‘Supersize Me’, I was fully aware of the dangerous effects burgers have on the body and the mind, but I was out of control. The car stopped outside the entrance door. I quickly searched my surroundings for some sort of ‘Subway' anywhere. Nothing. This was all there was. This was my only chance to eat. This would answer hunger’s call.
         “My body went through the motions of getting out the car, leaving three bodies in deep sleeps sprawled out across each other like an enigma. My legs walked me into the overwhelming stench of pickles and fries hanging in the atmosphere. The monster in my belly seemed to be enticed by it and gave out an angry roar. My feet pointed in the direction of the counter then my legs followed its path. There was a teenager on the other side of the counter picking his own spots, then picking his nose, and then examining his findings. At this point I would have stormed out, or as a matter of fact I would have never gone in there to start with, but when you have been stripped of society’s expectations of public conduct, and degraded to the primitive instincts of finding food, you will do anything it takes to get what you need to survive.
        “The ‘puss-spurting-from every-pore-in-his-face’ punk asked me what I wanted and my mouth blurted out ‘The Number Two, No Pickles please’.  Stop looking at me like that Cindy; you know I have a thing about pickles, even if it meant eliminating the only mildly healthy part of my meal. Anyway, I didn’t even know what the number two meal was; the monster in my stomach answered the guys’ question for me. When he asked me if I wanted fries, obviously the next reply was ‘Yes please, large’ and then with his next question of what drink I wanted my mouth said ‘Chocolate Milkshake please’. See, aren’t you proud of your little sister Becca? Even during extreme situations I’m still polite. But as I was saying, so what seemed like a second later, my food was perfectly laid out on a tray before me. My hands reached forward to grab its edges and I carried it to the corner table in the restaurant, mildly conscious of who would see me.
         “My hands popped open the lid of the box. There lay a Quarter Pounder with cheese, no pickles. The edges of the shiny cheese gleamed in the artificial lights above. The three single seeds on the bun, I’m sure, were there to make people feel as though it is healthy bread they are eating with their artificial meat cooked in lard and smothered in mustard and ketchup. The lettuce looked as though it was an innocent victim who had been convicted and was now locked up with villains, chubby villains.
        “Wait one second Lizzie I’m almost done. So my hands wrapped themselves around the sides of the bun, and then elevated it to the level of my eyes. That was it. There was part of me that wanted to jump and walk right out of that place. But I couldn’t. Instead I obeyed the powerful force possessing me…and I ate the burger. It all became a blur after that, almost like I blacked out. When I eventually regained consciousness and control of myself, I remember a slurping sound finishing off the last of my milkshake while looking at an empty box and an empty container of what I could imagine it had in there were the fries.
        “The buttons of my shorts were undone, probably because they began to feel tight. I rushed into the restroom and washed my face with the icy cold water but the water was unable to access my hands from the excess of grease and oil that must have dripped out of the burger onto them. Yes, it really did happen. It was not a dream. I indulged in a McDonald’s meal. Since then I have tried living life one day at a time. I purposefully take any street I can as to not drive past a McDonald’s in case I get possessed again, and I go to the gym 6 times a week now to burn off the blubber clinging onto my hips, but nothing work. I still have the thirty pounds I gained from that night wrapped around my body and no more foundation from using it all up to cover my pimples.
        “Alas ladies, I understand if you cannot associate yourselves with a junk-eater, let alone be seen with me in public. But you asked what I regretted most doing and that was it. I feel so much better now that I’ve said it, I was sure you all suspected something, but that can I do now? I guess all I can do it drink some more margarita!”