I went to Jack-in-the-Box today. (No, that’s not the “every girl’s dream” part.) I got an Acapulco salad with grilled chicken. I squeezed one wedge of lime onto my salad, and another wedge into my diet Coke. I listened to some other people’s conversations, and ate my salad, and listened some more, sent a text message.
Then I looked up, and a well-dressed, tall man was standing next to my table.
“Hi! What’s your name?”
“Shauna. And yours?”
“Nice to meet you, John.”
“You’re beautiful. Let’s get married.”
“Thank you! No.”
“We’d have some beautiful-[redacted] babies, I’m telling you. Can I have your number.”
“No?! Why not?”
“Um, I have a boyfriend.”
“Honey, he might not be the right one for you, you know what I’m sayin’? Come on, please?”
“Thank you, I’m flattered! No. Bye!”
Little did I know that if I would just go into the restaurant instead of going through the drive-thru all the time, my lunch breaks would be a lot more interesting…