Secret Ingredient

My nose is captivated by the smell. Grabbed and dragged into the inviting mists of aroma that surrounds and comforts me. My eyes are enveloped by the menu items, each complete with catchy name and detailed photo. There is a certain quality to the food that I cannot put my finger on. I see by a flashing neon sign that this is none other than that august fast food restaurant, “Bucket O’ Grease!”

As a rule I’m not a fast food eater. It’s not to say that I feel that the cuisine is beneath my overly sensitive and developed pallet. It’s just that a majority of these establishments are hamburger joints. For the most part I’m not a hamburger person. I mean I like them well enough, I suppose, but I wouldn’t normally pick them. As such my fast food choices are a little more limited. Smallish greasy chicken pieces, or smallish greasy tacos.

For some reason lately I have been drawn to fast food. I have not given myself over to the urges but I must say it is getting harder and harder to resist!

“Come to the dark side Peter.”

“YES, NO! wait...”

“We have a pail of seasoned curly fries! And a 67 ounce soda option! ”

“AHHH!!!!”

The thing is recently I have been trying to watch what I eat. The trouble with watching what you eat is that you also spend a lot of time watching what you cannot eat. I find that while I’m eating my healthy and nourishing dinner, things that wouldn’t normally even appeal to me, like burgers, sound better than they ever have in the past. While I normally would be quite turned off by the idea that a guacamole jalapeño bacon burger even existed, I find it dancing in my head as I consume my chicken salad with light dressing.

I believe that the real draw is the wanting and not the having. I cannot recall ever being happy after consuming my weight in extra crispy chicken, that is once I regain consciousness. For some reason though it is hard to remember that when my car unexpectedly veers to the left and I find myself puzzling over which sides to choose. My only conclusion is that there must be some secret ingredient, beside the treasured 1000 island dressing.

Why else would I be willing to risk my pocketbook and another three day bellyache, for the least satisfying meal in America? It might be for convenience, ease, or possibly price. More than likely it's for the double-double burger with onions, well done animal style fries and a cold, thick, chocolate ice-cream shake!

Whatever the secret is I hope that I can continue to resist, though I’m not sure for how much longer. All their full sized ads, mail-in coupons and super size options are calling to me. As far as fast food is concerned the only real clarity comes with the aftermath. When the grease soaked bag lies in the trash, the jumbo gulp is gone and all you have left is a body of discomfort, and a knowledge that you have once again succumbed to the secret ingredient.