I have a bargaining thing that I do with the cheeseburger at Smashburger. It is a wrong food, bad, I am bad to want it, it makes me feel bad, but I don’t believe there is another food I love so much, that gives me so much pleasure in the mouth. So I try to say no, back away, get the chicken sandwich, as if that’s any more likely to keep me alive. I know that I am more likely to say yes if I wait and wait and don’t eat lunch until very late in the day. Today I stalled lunch with an orange, a packet of almonds left over from my last airplane flight. I asked colleagues for alternatives. I tried to walk past. But hey. Why not. Really. The world’s about to die, in part because of Smashburger cheeseburgers. I did get the child size, though. There is some good in that, slightly less dead cow?

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