LORD, HEAR MY PLEA!
I just want a blessed Cheeseburger and fries and a side salad with bleu cheese dressing and a fountain drink with only a little ice, or maybe a Moscow mule, or maybe a hot chocolate with peppermint Schnapps brought to my table by someone I’ll be more than happy to tip…and then I’ll consider dessert, yes, I’ll have that… and we friends will sit talking away while the cook cooks it, and we’ll listen and maybe even sing along with the moldy old Motown songs playing the background… and laugh at stupid jokes…Just a burger served to me …maybe sauteed mushrooms, a sour pickle, a red onion slice… Yes, Yes, I have all those ingredients in my fridge here at home…but I don’t wanna cook… wahhhh… I want someone to distract me…and no, I don’t want to go to someone’s house, I want to go OUT…to a RESTAURANT where everybody knows my face, if not my name.
So, I think, McDonalds or Arbys…but noooooo, the lines are 15 cars long…. eeeeerrgggh
and, Lord, I don’t want to go to King Soopers to see that blessed beggar who stands at the stop light wearing his warm down jacket and new boots, and holding a sign saying times are hard, anything would help, flashing me a smile and a peace sign every blasted time he’s there…or his wife, and their baby in its stroller stand out there… I figure they get $20/hour standing out there for 8 hours, they’re making over $40,000 a year…for standing there looking pathetic… gad… guilt pays those who milk it… Get that baby inside someplace warm!
And THEN I pull into my garage and my neighbor lady is just trying to take out her trash, and some jackass who probably doesn’t even live here or pay HOA fees that cover our trash pick up brought the flipping box for his new 51 inch television and plopped it in front of our giant trash bin, blocking our reach…so we pushed that box out of the way, only to find that the bugger had filled our trash bin, which was emptied Friday afternoon, to the top so that there was nowhere for her to put her trash bag except on the ground where surely the wretched squirrels will tear into it and have a feast, strewing what they don’t like on the ground for other critters to sort through…right next to my garage door… mmm hmmm
So, Lord, how is YOUR four hundred fifty thousandth day of pandemic isolation? What’s that? You’re keeping busy? Well, just don’t tell me to get over it and hold my head up and dream big and remember the starving children in China… I don’t wanna just now…