3. I Should've Known It Was Going To Be Toxic
Updated: Sep 6
Imagine a steak house that serves you counter style like Chipotle. You order at one end of the counter and pick up your food after paying. It's a really long counter with a salad and desert section. The steak man will yell out and ask you for your order long before you ever reach the first station. Everything is completely made to order, and the ordering line is always long.
I was 4 months pregnant with our first child, and we had a neo-natal cardiology appointment that morning. I wanted steak for lunch and we drove to the Best Steak House. "Best" was literally in the name and it was the best in town for a cheap price. It also happened to be around the corner from the doctor's office and I could smell steak grilling while walking the hospital campus.
The b.a.b.d. stood in line in front of me. We both ordered steaks and fries and walked through the line picking out our salad, deserts, and other sides. When we approached the end of the line, one of the cooks passed b.a.b.d. his fries while we were watching our steaks being grilled. My fries were on the way. I reached over to grab one of his fries. He yelled "don't touch my fucking food" while snatching his tray away from me so violently, the whole plate of fries flew off his tray.
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