The Bellowing Call

I look at my phone and the time makes me anxious. One hour. Now, it is 59 minutes left. There never seems to be enough time for oneself during the day.

59 minutes of juicy chicken tenders. Oily french fries, maybe a burger that’s dripping with sauce and pickle and mustard and maybe onion and mushrooms. A soda, bubbly and syrupy sweet. Or I could turn the corner for a pork bun and taro bubble tea with grass jelly and red bean.

Though two blocks down, I could have Hawaiian poke, but the line is ridiculously too long. It would go over my allotted 58 minutes and 30 seconds left. Maybe the corner Korean deli for some spicy mushroom, rice, and green beans. They also have great cold shrimp salad that’s always it weary to try yet I go for it anyways. But I could do so much better!

There’s also that Turkish fast food chain for some simit. But they are a bit pricey for the nabe.

Or I could go healthy for a wrap…or not. I suppose a healthy salad or soup? Well, tomato orzo and chicken is always good. So sweet and creamy. At that point, I could venture further and get pho. MMm….piping hot and steamy pho with cold summer rolls. Or salty fried egg rolls. Shrimp crackers. I’ll be so close to Popeye’s chicken then. Fried chicken and popcorn shrimp, biscuits, and gravy mashed potatoes. Fries…cajun style. Or go back for some banh mi. But what about pizza? Mmmm…pizza is always good. Or Korean fried chicken and sweet potatoes.

The choices are endless! I could eat and eat and be happy and never return!

Suddenly, a large bellow echoes in the elevator.

I blush as four other people in the car cast furtive glances around without being too rude to see whose stomach was growling so loudly.

“Sorry,” I mumble, “I’m just a bit hungry.”

The door dings, saving me from the embarrassing giggles as we all race out and try to fill in our 57 minutes of lunch break.