This weekend my LDF and I hit the road to visit her family for Easter weekend. It wasn't too long a trip as these things go, but by the time we were traveling, we realized we would need a snack to see us through lunchtime. We stopped and got biscuits at a drive-through. For some reason there was a noisome odor lingering near the biscuit place, but I think it was mere coincidence because the biscuits were delicious. We could tell they were going to be good when we saw the grease stains on the brown paper bag. The best road food is the kind of stuff that you would never eat on a daily basis, but it's perfect for traveling. Maybe it's an ancestral urge in our cells to stock up fat reserves for the journey ahead. Maybe traveling makes us long somewhere deep down for home and stability, and eating comfort food is a way to achieve that. Maybe going to foreign surroundings pulls us away from a sense of our mortality, and the feeling of our arteries clogging is a reassuring reminder. Maybe the heavy food is ballast that literally helps ground us during the uncertainty of physical transition.
Or maybe it's just downright tasty.
I'm still proud of our restraint in the face of $1.75 fat back.
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