Star Sightings, Great Food, And The Occasional Duck

As I mentioned before, I have a four hour daily commute. If I leave work at 5 o’clock, I get home at 7. It is even later if the weather or other commuters don’t co-operate.

The issue is that my body knows that 6 o’clock is dinner time. By 5, it is starting to prepare itself. Food is coming. Food is coming. At 6, it is asking “Where’s the food? I don’t see the food.” By the time I get home, my leather shoes are looking like a meal option.

That is why food on public transportation should be banned. It is in some cities. Not in mine though.

I’m sitting on a crowded bus. The lady beside me is eating Kentucky Fried Chicken. You know how good that smells. Like crack for your nostrils.

My stomach growls. The lady gives me a smug look. I glare back. Didn’t her Momma tell her if she eats in front of people, she should have enough to share?

I watch her eat the chicken slowly and deliberately, picking off the meat in tiny slivers. By the time, she’s finished that piece, I’m so hungry, I’d lick the Colonel’s special seasoning off her fingertips.

Finally she gets off the bus.  The smell remains.

A couple stops down, a teenage boy with a McDonald’s bag gets on. I shoot him a dirty look. He better not sit near me. Heeding the warning, he sits one seat back.

Although I can’t see the French fries, I sure can smell them.

I now realize why fast food is bad for your health. I could kill for those fries.