Love Is Pink!

The tires rumbled clumsily over the fresh snow. Night had fallen, and the headlights were tearing yellow holes into it.

“Where are we going now?” Emma asked.

“Well,” David said, “it’s late and we’re all pretty hungry. It’s time to go get something to eat.”

“McDonald’s!” Emma cheered. “We’re going to McDonald’s!”

The shock of hearing that was so big that my heart missed a beat before it started pumping heavily. I had taken for granted that we’d go to a real restaurant—sure, probably one for average people, and, for all I knew, one without a single star, but one that would at least have menus, tablecloths, and waiters. Now it was clear that we were on our way to a greasy fry joint.

“I haven’t any money,” I said.

“That’s OK,” David said. “We can afford to feed one more mouth.”

At the edge of the road, I spotted a sign with the characteristic golden “M” against the red background and the number of kilometers remaining. David slowed down and turned.

“Can’t we go somewhere else?” I asked meekly.

David shook his head. “I’ve tried, believe me. But when we’re away from home, Emma won’t eat anywhere else.”

“Exactly,” Emma chimed. She bounced in her seat. “Michelle, you’ll see! They have the best food! You don’t even need plates or silverware. And it doesn’t even matter if you stain your clothes.”

I gave her a pained smile, looked back at the road, and said to David, “Surely you know that this devil of a company gets children addicted by conning them into eating unhealthy food with the help of plastic toys? I think it’s irresponsible of you to expose Emma to it.”

David gave me a derisive look. “Maybe so, Michelle, but it would be absolutely irresponsible to let Emma starve.”

I didn’t want his comment to go unanswered, but the brakes screeched, and he drove into the parking lot. He cut the engine, this time without any grand gestures. From my seat, I could see straight through the glass storefront into the restaurant. Dozens of people sat inside, stuffing themselves with cholesterol-rich fast food. I suddenly felt ill. I could almost taste the disgusting fat on my tongue.

“Well, are you coming with us?” David asked. Emma had already gotten out and was dancing around the car.

“No,” I said. “Go ahead. Please don’t mind me at all.”

David gave me a scrutinizing look before pressing his lips together in resignation. “Your loss. If you change your mind, we’ll be inside.”

He closed the door, took Emma by the hand, and they disappeared into the restaurant. Honestly, I was a bit annoyed by David’s reaction. He could have tried a bit harder to persuade me. Then I would have had the chance to school him condescendingly. But he wouldn’t do me that favor. He might have been poor, but he wasn’t dumb. He knew that he’d end up with the short end of the stick with me.

I kept watching people go to their seats with their big trays and happily stuff their bellies. They lacked any sort of eating culture, not to mention basic table manners.

It was stifling in the car, so I rolled down my window a crack. It put up a fight and made a horrible creaking noise. The chilly air felt good, but the scent of fresh snow was mixed with something else. The smell of fried food.

My stomach growled in pain. I had to bend forward to calm it down.

And then something happened that I never would have thought possible: I opened the door, jumped out of the car, and rushed into the joint. I knew that I’d hate myself for it. I knew I’d be ashamed of it for the rest of my life. But my body proved stronger than my mind.

As soon as I pushed through the swinging glass door, I spotted Emma and David. They sat alone at a small table. I walked over to them. Well, to be honest, I think I ran. Emma and David were just starting to eat. A third plastic tray of food was waiting in front of an empty seat.

Without saying a word, without even looking at either one of them, I sat down, ripped open the cardboard box, took out the huge burger (it was so big that I could barely hold it), and allowed myself to enjoy it. In between bites, I stuffed handfuls of fries into my mouth and washed them down with a sugary cola.

This must have been how a junkie feels when he uses again after abstaining for years.

It was only after I was finished that I realized David and Emma were watching me, spellbound.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. I slurped the rest of my cola through the wide straw.

David made a vague hand gesture. “Nothing.”

But Emma didn’t hold back. “Wow!” she said. “I’ve never seen anyone eat so fast before.”

“It wasn’t that much,” I argued lamely.

David pointed to the empty packaging piled up on my tray. Only then did I realize how much more I’d eaten than I’d actually been aware of.

“Two big burgers,” David said, “and three portions of fries.”