Fast Food Fraud

I am ashamed to admit that this Plantain has proven herself to be a fraud.
Where, not too long ago I boasted a bottomless pit of a stomach, ready to ingest french fries and stuffing galore from the Festive Special I found myself unable to live up to those assertions.

Last night, I am sad to say, I ordered the festive special.

Let me backtrack slightly and say that first of all, I am leaving on my beach vaca in 2 days- not exactly the time I want to be stuffing (pun.intended) my face with...stuffing right?
Secondly, we sit down to eat and are ready to order and I have just begun to rationalize how I need some oil in my meal and hey, potato is a vegetable too isn't it?
My father in law, who is sitting beside me, goes "I hear that the festive special has 3 times the calories of a Big Mac".

Well, that is a deterrent to my precious french fries if ever I heard one.

And so, regretfully I ordered the festive special, white meat, no skin, with steamed vegetables filling the void where heavenly fries would have occupied. I dipped into the chalet sauce cautiously, only just picked at the stuffing and cried on the inside that I have such food guilt that I would go ahead and deny myself these wonderful treats.

Anyways, I feel like I have cleared some air- I'm sorry for lying about my willingness to consume this dish- it really is my absolute favorite- which leads me to the topic of the day- food envy.

I would say that I experience food envy at least 90 percent of the time I eat out making my dining experience quite excruciating for my dining companions (this is usually my husband) who must relinquish their own well-chosen meal and give in to my stabbing fork awaiting bites of the meal I should have had.

Example:
This past weekend after getting physically abused by our travel doctor, we went to grab a quick brunch at Fire on the East Side. I love this place both because it serves amazing banana bread pre meal and the bathrooms are a full on gong show- they are connected to The Fly, a nightclub. I don't know if it is PC to say it is a gay nightclub and I would abso hate to offend anyone by labeling it as such, but it is and the bathroom walls- the only part of the club I have seen- are plastered with oiled up men in briefs and ads for safe sex. I always have thought this to be funny messaging to consider when enjoying your morning bacon hangover.

I digress.

So brunch, we go and first thing on the menu is a smoked turkey and sweet potato hash. This, to me, sounds like heaven on a plate- but of course, being perpetually concerned about "being healthy" I opt instead for the Poached eggs with salsa and salad.

This is the obvious wrong choice and I already know it- who the F can enjoy crappy poached eggs while breathing in the aromas of the melted cheddar, smokey hickory meat and perfectly mashed potato wafting over from the adjacent plate?

And so of course, I don't, and instead spend majority of my meal picking through my eggs and sneaking mouthfuls of savory turkey wonderfulness every time my husband turns his head- he wonders how is plate clears so fast- I giggle.

And this is just one of MANY times that I do this- why? It would seem so much more intelligent to just go ahead and eat what I want instead of stealing it from the mouths of my hungry co-diners right?

Either way, please don't read this and never want to eat with me again- I swear I won't eat of your plate or pick your scraps or force you to share with me*

*promise null and void upon ordering.