I crossed the double line exiting the freeway, as I finished this post just now. I am hungry. I went to bed with more beer in my belly than pizza. I found morning with a queezy and gassy stomach, so I puffed a small bowl to ease the acidic flow in my stomach and get my equilibrium back. It works for the appetite every time. I rarely smoke weed in the morning these days unless I’m hungover from wine like I was today. I think its because I hate the feeling I get when I have munchies but no time for breakfast, like now.
When these moments happen, my mind drifts and I salivate for food that I wish I had. My eyes scan the clock as I try to calculate how long it would take to pull into a McDonald’s and whether their breakfast would be anything but merely sufficient for my hunger.
On this day, I will kill this hunger with Dunkin Donuts. But as I writw this I think, I imagine that I will open my own restaurant dedicated to these exact moments. A place that I can go to and mooch a free meal when my cotton mouth needs filling. I want a place where the chicken and waffles flow like Niagara and the pancakes, bacon,and eggs are guaranteed to leave you comatose. I want it to be a meat and three, a cafeteria style place serving soul food by night. When I get this place, I’m going to call it Tanya’s (or Munchies, maybe). If I weren’t headed to work right now, I’d be there,getting my grub on until the last bite of biscuits and white gravy are smashed and swallowed down.