While at Burger King

I broke down went to Burger King. Fast food is a horrible institution but I had the jones for a Whopper® with cheese. It’s one of those unmistakable cravings, like when you want to go out and stab someone (kiddin’!) Anyway, I ordered up my slab of meet and cheese (no onions) with little drama. Sitting at the counter that faces 16th Street I stared out at the droves of people. A voice rang out in the “restaurant.” “Do yo’ think I’m not intelligent?” I looked over my right shoulder and saw a woman. She had on a t-shirt and jeans and some faux looking fur boots. Fur boots on a warm spring day—no doubt a fashion statement. “I don’t wanna know what yo’re selling” she said looking out the door. “Do yo’ think I’m not intelligent?” Usually when someone has to say that it does indeed mean they aren’t intelligent. Regardless I was amused by this woman and continued to watch. A homeless man walked in. “I don’t give money to peoples. I’m not saying yo’ gots a habit, but I don’t give money to no ones. I’m not saying yo’ gots a habit, but I don’t give money to no ones” she kept repeating herself. “I’ll buy yo’re food but I won’t give yo’ no money. I’m here to feed people’s souls, not der habits. I’m not saying yo’ gots a habit. I just feed people’s souls.” It was the way she said it, with such conviction like Burger King® was Holy Communion™. The Whopper® was the key to restoring this person’s life. Was Coke® the Blood of Christ™? “Nows tell da lady what yo’ want.” The man began to speak and the woman cut him off “she don’t wanna here your story. Just tell her what you want!” “Number One. No onions.” Obviously a man after my own jones.