It was still dark, but I was happy that
I awakened for another day. I’m
adjusting easier to the coming Fall
than I do to changes in life. I may
die before I figure it out; if I ever
figure it out. My errands were going
so well today, that I decided to get a
rare treat after my last stop. A double
quarter pounder was closest on my
way home. Long drive-thru line. No
hurry. I seldom remember to check
the order and didn’t this time. Well,
I pulled out and got half way home
when I remembered that I forgot to
buy stamps. I was so elated that it
was ten percent off senior day at
the grocery that when the checker
wooed me through the self-checking
area, I totally forgot about the stamps.
I quickly got off at the next left turn,
drove to the first break in the island,
then headed South again to the
nearest store that sells stamps. This
was odd; you pay for them in a regular
checkout line, but none of them have
stamps—they escort you up to the
tobacco service counter to get you
your book of stamps. Back into the
car. Lunch bag is getting cold by now.
I get home, take the few things out of
the car and my lunch and head for the
kitchen. I put the cold fries on a paper
plate and zap them for twenty seconds.
I paid extra for lettuce and tomato.
Took a quick look and zapped the
burger for fifteen seconds. I added
some ketchup. Something didn’t look
right. Not sure what it was. Lettuce,
check. Tomato, check, Pickles, check.
I sat down at the table, opened my
lunchtime read and took my first bite.
That is when it hit me. I paid for a
double, but it was a single. I paid more
for this double than I would for a great
Chinese take-out lunch special from
down the street! Number one, I don’t
return things. Number two, even if I
wanted to the drive was too long, and
I already took a bite out of it. I took a
sip of Coke, calmed down, and blamed
everything from Socrates forward
under my breath between French fries.
But I had to get back to writing my
book, so I had to turn my thinking
around. God is the giver of gifts. So,
the guy behind me in the drive-thru
probably ordered a single and got,
you guessed it—my double.
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)