Walk of Shame

I try not to eat fast food. Like, ever (except when traveling). It's unhealthy. It's expensive. And there's some debate as to whether or not it's actually food at all. But sometimes you're in a hurry and you start to think about eating your own arm.

So, today, against my better judgment, I went through the drive thru at Taco Bell. As I approached the menu I realized I was driving Olive (2005 Suzuki Forenza that's holding on for dear life) and things were about to get tricky. The driver window doesn't roll down anymore. So I opened the door and placed my order. This is first wave of shame.

Nothing tops off a fast food order like a giant diet soda! A wee bit more shame.

I pull up to the pick-up window and I realize paying and receiving my brown bag of shame will be even more tricky than ordering. So, I open my door to pay and I scraped the bottom of my door on a freakishly high curb. I scared the poor woman inside and she looked at me like, "Don't try to act like you've never been through a Taco Bell drive thru before..." I smiled and waved like a big dummy and reached out with my money as my car started to roll away. I'm rolling because I can't put Olive in park anymore. Instead, you have to put the car in neutral and use the emergency brake; and I forgot to do so. So now I'm rolling away with money and my arm hanging out the door. I can feel the shame for sure.

On my way to my appointment I spent a solid 10 minutes at a stand still in traffic when I came across an urban high school that had just let out and there were no sidewalks. Teenagers everywhere! Between cars, down the middle of the road. Down both sides of the road. One poor guy was trying to direct traffic and pedestrians. So since I couldn't go anywhere, I decided to eat my burrito. And that's when I ended up wearing my shame.