The other day I was finished in the shop and about to take a shower. Checking my email, I saw that Ana had sent me this comic:
At first I chuckled because this was so much like me. Then the notion struck me, "Nachos. That sounds really good right about now."
Since it was nearly midnight, the only place in the world that I could count on for nachos with jalapeno peppers was 7-eleven. I know they're probably not good for me, but 7-eleven nachos fascinate me as I've written about before. So after my shower I loaded up the dogs and headed back to the boat via 7-eleven.
When I got there I bought a tray of nacho goodness and cranked out several full measures of cheese product from the Free CheeseTM machine. Then I stepped over to the condiment trays and scooped out several unhealthy piles of anemic-looking, drippy slices of jalapeno peppers that had clearly been waiting there all day just for me. Then I paid the friendly little Punjabi clerk the small price for this tasty treat, knowing full well that the larger price would come later.
I was right about everything. It tasted great, sated my hunger for spicy junkfood, and left me completely incapacitated on the toilet for nearly an hour the next morning.
I'm old enough to know better, but it tastes too good to care.