First off, I forgot to call my dad yesterday to wish him a happy Father’s Day. I’m a horrible son, I know. But he didn’t remember my birthday, so I guess we’re about even. Besides, who wants to be reminded that they’re a father, anyway? It's basically just a huge flashing sign that you’re old and over the hill – especially when your kids don’t live with you any more. On top of that, dads get shafted when it comes to gifts. I celebrate Father’s Day in my own way … just have a beer or two to toast the fact that I DON'T have kids yet. Thank GAWD for that.
But that’s neither here nor there, I suppose … here comes the non sequitur.
Wait for it ...
wait for it ...
...now! So I go on these weird binges with fast food. Not a binge in the sense of stuffing myself one night with burgers and fries and feeling like Jabba the Hutt afterwards. More like, I’ll have something from a particular fast food restaurant at least five times a week for a month or so. A few months back, a girl I was dating got me hooked on Taco Bell for like three weeks. I ate nachos and kay-suh-dillahs for lunch and dinner every single day for the second week of that run … que loco, no? For the month after that, the same girl got me into eating a lot of Jack in the Box, which I had never really been a fan of. But they serve breakfast all day – I mean, how can you not appreciate the beauty of that!
Lately, the thing has been McDonald’s. I’ve always been partial to their Dollar Menu. The double cheeseburger is so money and it doesn’t even know it. But this most recent binge started last Monday after the PB&J home game. Billy and I were starving, so we decided to treat ourselves to some late night Mickey D’s for playing so well. Billy was up a lot; I actually lost a few bucks but had bought in three times and so was still feeling pretty good. That trip was quite the story in itself, but I don’t want to get into that tale right now. Suffice it to say that it hit the spot, and I’ve been back to that same McDonald’s four times since then.
So I’ve decided to start a tradition. Whenever I feel I have played well in a session, I am going to try and reward myself with a McDonald’s fudge sundae. This tradition might be very short-lived, but who cares. It’ll be a lot of fun while it lasts. And it might even help me to tilt less. When I start to get numb and the money loses its meaning, I’ll remember what’s waiting for me a block away if I stay solid for just a little while longer.
I don’t see any downside to this, other than perhaps getting fat. But me getting fat is bound to happen sooner or later, I’m sure. It’s just a part of getting older.
Besides, even if I am getting older, even if I am getting fatter, things could be worse.
I mean, at least I don’t have kids yet.
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