You really liked Filet-O-Fishâ„¢. I'd always remembered that. All the details I had forgotten but that one stuck. I'd always been down for fast food but eating frozen "fish" patties was tantamount to sacrilege and was one of those things I just wouldn't do. But you would. You'd order from the voice in the box, under golden arches, and I'd blissfully mock you as you chowed down on salmonella. Tartar sauce would ooze from the edges of the sandwich as you took frenzied bites squashing the formaldehyde laced bread between your fingers, savoring the flavors. With a grimace I'd kiss your cheek, strategically moving my lips to avoid the gelatinous smear on your face. The way you take in the taste, consume the flaky, fried patty, the joy in each bite - it's the way you look at me in those little moments. The glances caught while lighting a cigarette, putting on my bra, washing my hands. Those little moments of happiness, of pure intrigue, the look in your eyes when I smiled back.
Would You Like a Coke with That? by E Board

