It was a weak moment after a gruelng hour and a half workout today that nearly morphed me into Puke Girl, when I had an out-of-body experience. It was so surreal that even I wonder if it truly didn't happen.
I was sitting at the stop light (in a car - my car- which I have affectionately dubbed as "Why did I let my ex talk me into buying this P.O.S.?) Anyway, I floated effortlessly out of my driver's side window then into the unassuming BMW to my left, where the passenger was savoring a juicy, dripping, everything-on-it CHEESEBURGER, wrapped in foil-lined paper.
I snatched that sphere of fatty carboliciousness right out of his knotty-knuckled hand and made it disappear quicker than Houdini could say Abra. Now, being a Super Hero in Training and all, I did feel a twinge of guilt. But in my mind, if I was about to starve to death, what good was I going to be to anyone? I view it as a citizen helping out, much like when a cop is in hot pursuit of a perpetrator while on foot and has to commandeer some poor soul's precious motorcycle to catch the bad guy. It's almost exactly the same thing, except for the no one is in immediate danger part.
At that very moment that bundle of deliciousness was worth about the same as the price of a motorcycle, and I just have to say that poor unsuspecting soul was lucky to keep his fingers, because I don't recall ever seeing the foil-lined paper anywhere after the incident.
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