After hearing so much hype about the impossible burger, both from the marketing campaign and then from vegetarians/vegans, my roommate made trying one our latest food walk destination. I immediately coupled this food stop with a coffee shop that served alcohol to help the digestion of fast food.
As we waited in line, we witnessed a dad walk his family’s three burgers back to the counter because they all wanted cheese. At this point, my roommate stated that she wished she could take those sandwiches and give them to the campers–the people living in tents and lean-tos on the grassy median in front of the fast food joint.
I found her comment confusing since, silly me, I thought the food servers would merely add cheese to the burgers, especially since the sandwiches had sat on the counter for a while. Suddenly, the cashier swooped them up and threw them in the trash with such food-wasting flair.
I tried to comfort myself. “Well, I’m sure dumpster divers will enjoy those burgers later.”
My roommate popped that big happy bubble of delusion. “They bleach all the food they throw away.” Seeing the look on my face, she agreed that our country hates poor people.
Once we had our burgers, we sat at a table under too bright fluorescent lights, too close to the indoor playground, which was technically enclosed in another area, separated by glass. Foolish me thought I could improve the fast food burger experience with hot sauce–as if hot sauce was available.
Although the burger definitely tasted like meat, a feature some meatless eaters don’t like about it, I disliked the lettuce dripping out of the buns due to the excessive amount of mayonnaise. Nonetheless, I wolfed it down while thinking about how much food was thrown away on a daily basis, which meant my mind wasn’t obsessing about the cleanliness of the establishment.
We left in record time.
En route to a proper beverage, my roommate gifted her leftover fries to one of the campers who was walking in the opposite direction, eating a boxed fast food meal. What are the attainable food options for people experiencing both food and shelter insecurities? Granted, this neck of the woods wasn’t a food desert, but how could people prepare food? The cheapest, most convenient food is often the least nutritious.
The warmth of the coffee shop melted away the fast food experience. I knew I wanted hot chocolate with a shot of something, preferably Kahlua or some Irish cream whiskey. Instead, I basked in front of a wall of infused alcohol. After what felt like far too long, I chose a shot of vanilla and almond infused vodka.
I sipped my warm cup of chocolatey joy on the patio. Who knows if my digestive track needed an alcohol chaser to aid with that fast food. It was a beautiful way to end the day.