“Sometimes you will never know the value of a moment until it becomes a memory.” ~Dr. Seuss
Earlier this week, I got a hankering for a five bajillion calorie steak burrito from Chipotle with all the fixin’s.
Not even the risk of getting the plague, or whatever is allegedly in their food these days, could sway the craving.
With a single-minded focus, I pointed my car in the direction of the nearest location and with my stomach growling and my mouth salivating, I put the pedal to the metal with hungry anticipation.
But then, I remembered that time a few years ago, when I was happily satisfying a similarly intense lunch hour burrito craving, when I came face to labia with another woman’s vagina.
She had apparently forgotten to zip her fly and being that she was going commando, her lady parts gave me a little vertical smile as she cruised by.
In that moment, two things happened….
1. I gained an unfortunate amount of knowledge regarding the grooming habits of a strangers pink taco.
2. I grudgingly tossed my loaf of bread sized burrito into the trash and told myself I’d probably never again appreciate the perfectly seasoned balance of their tortilla chips.
Because, even though I can never remember how old I am, or why I went to the grocery store, I never forget a dirty look.