I sat there, tapping my fingers impatiently on the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. I glanced at the clock. It'd been a whole fifteen minutes since I'd first ordered my deep-fried mess called lunch and here I was, still as hungry as I'd been then, if not more. It didn't help that smell of hamburgers wafted past me tantalizingly. So close yet so far...

At last, ten more finger-tapping, grease-smelling minutes later, I pulled up to the window. Like a heavenly being, the polyester-clad employee handed me the paper sack, drink cup, and reciept. At last! The food was right there, right there in my lap, not a half an hour and six feet away.

"Here you are," she smiled indifferently. I wanted to  shake her hand, give her a tip, lean out of my car window and warmly embrace her--anything for helping a poor, starving soul who had nothing to look forward to but yet another business trip. But I only said thanks.

The End

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