An ode to cheeseburger

I get in and I find myself in a narrow hallway. Large touch screens on both sides with people in front of them. On the surface of it, the place has changed a lot in the past 20 years, it used to be that you ordered food by using your speaking words. You can still do it. I bet once in a blue moon you get an old person and they insist they don’t understand computers and they need to order with a human. Now you can touch the screen a few times and you’re done, and I hear that’s what people prefer.

I come here every now and then when I am not OK. I order the same thing all the time: two cheeseburgers with large fries (with mayo; if you must know, I am not a fan of ketchup) and a coke. And in a few minutes it’s in front of me. Two slices of pickled cucumber in each, a slice of cheese is such an improvement over hamburger.

I come in here destroyed, ruined, heartbroken, and tears are stream down my face as I bite into the cheeseburger as if it’s not salty enough. Everything around us shifted in two decades, the world is on fire, I am a completely changed man, but this thing is exactly the same as it was 20 years ago. And I light up.