So I took Lil' A to a friend's birthday party. In McKinney. It isn't that it's too far from homebase or anything. It is that the entire area seems to be devoid of places I want to eat, yet full of people. People who obviously don't eat Jack in the Box. Or at least, know of a secret one not on the maps or anywhere on this plane of existence. I think there's at least a hundred people per Bruno Mars song played on any given radio station per hour up there. We're talking rapid overpopulation ahead if these numbers stay on course. And we're about to move up there. Ahhh!!!
Plus, I didn't have break-y, which makes for a hungry me come lunchtime. I dropped off Lil' A and said hello to a few parents inside the party, then bid them all adieu while they celebrated and I shopped. For such glamorous things as paper towels and toilet paper. A house nine people deep with seven of those people being kids. You do the perforated TP square math...
So after a trip to the store, I began hunting the elusive Jack in the Box you may have seen in National Geographic. Who knew that it wasn't indigenous to that area of North Texas? I figured, "Surely I'll see one on the road somewhere."
Much to my chagrin, all I saw was every other restaurant on the planet. Plus, there have got to be more random pizza places and no-name banks crammed into the Frisco/McKinney area than I thought humanly and geometrically possible. I'm no financial wizard, but I don't see the sense in keeping money in "The Bank of Eldorado Street" versus a national outfit like Citibank. Either way your money disappears like socks in the dryer, but at least your lawyer and the judge will have heard of Citibank.
At one point, after leading the ship astray following the sun and moss on the trees, I consulted the cell phone GPS. Eureka! There was a Jack in the Box...about 4 miles back the way I came and further - further?! - up I-75. And to make matters even more zany, the exit to the street where this lone North Texas JITB called home was jam packed with cars, trucks...and maybe even a tractor or two. Was everyone else also hungry for the $3.99 Jumbo Deal?
Of which, I did order and eat while I awaited the time to pick up Lil' A from her party, which had now moved to Gatti's Pizza. A random pizza joint. Good, but no Cici's. However...
Back to the food. As I ate - and then upon a reflection of what I just ate - my eyes drifted from my tray, out the window and across the street to...a McDonald's. I had passed at least two of those on my Columbus-esque journey for the fabled "New Jack," and now as I stared longingly at it from my booth seat...I wished I had eaten there instead. A couple crispy snack wraps with either chipotle barbeque or salsa roja...that'd been the ticket.
Nevertheless, food had been fed. To me. And while good, I can't help but reflect back on my greasy, fast-prepared meal like...
why...?
"Slow, subconscious mind-induced torture upon the rest of my body" is what I came up with. And with that new found notion - obviously destined to be forgotten by dinner tonight - I departed my discovery for a last minute top secret mission before scooping up the 10 yr-old from the party.
She had a good time. Got some blue stuffed animal dude and a dolphin from one of those coin-ops and a bunch of party favors. Some of those favors were bubbles. Which she then gave to the boys when we got home. Hm. Bubbles are sticky, right?
