Burger Girl I Love You

Adventure at the mall

Burger Girl I Love You

So. There is this girl. There is this mall. There is all this frantic activity going on around me. Why?! Soon you will find out. Soon there will be no mystery in this matter as it will all be perfectly clear. The clouds of misunderstanding will evaporate and all will become known in short order. The tale will unfold before your eyes, which are about to be treated, enlightened, mystified with what is about to be presented in the light of day in the abundance of truth on this delicate matter.

The events took place recently at the eatery in section 2 of the local mall. It is a small place with adequate lighting, sufficient for the needs of the operation, which is the dispensing of food at a reasonable price. In fact it is the sole purpose for their existence. Their limited menu affords hungry passers by a quick reprieve from their busy day, which we all know from experience can be hectic.

I beg you to keep this information confidential. It is private. It is as sacred as a religious artifact still buried in history. It is a personal secret only known to myself and a limited few. Please do not disrupt me during this dissertation, this innocent telling of a sober tale, which happens to be totally true in every way, down to the slightest detail and minutia of the moment, down to the last effervescent bubbles of the soda that I drank.

It begins at the eatery, as recently as noon yesterday at the local mall, that is, if memory serves me correctly.

So. There is this girl. I call her Burger girl because I do not know her name. She has this electric smile. Her ethnicity is not important. She served me a burger with fries. I don't know why. I must have placed an order. It was possible that I was hungry at the time but then, there she was, a woman, who became an intricate part of my life from that point onward.

Memory is a blur from that moment. In any event we are getting ahead of the story. At first I thought she was a simple worker, part of the service staff, a clean up person at the food court. She had a broom in hand and was maneuvering around me with the skill and agility of an ice hockey champion with her stick attached to a stiff bristled end of it, employing it as a device, more like a weapon, to attack loose debris on the floor, to capture it and put it in its place. It was all about cleanliness from what I could surmise, for usefulness, for practicality to make the place look pretty. She skated her way around and about customers, including myself, as she desired. Free will came into play to push her on in a spirited way in a playful manner to get the job done. She literally floated on air, with a propensity for gravitational avoidance as she floated on by as was her style.

In this capacity, this functionality, her station in life seemed fixed, carved out by the blueprint of nature to define her for what she is, which seemed to be fulfilled in this trivial job pursuit. I would go as far as to say she was satisfied in that regard. She was at home, pretty at ease and it was evident in her glowing face she was content. She seemed accomplished at her duty to serve humanity, the community at large and customers included in that group, with her charm and abundant skills in cleaning. It appears she was and will be a perfect clean up girl forever. In fact, she was quite efficient and effective to that end from all available evidence.

In order to facilitate a better eating experience for all, which was her goal, she became their salvation, purification mistress, cleanliness machine for one and everyone within her field of vision and with the aid, a grasp of reality, a grip on her mighty broom, she accomplished that simple task within her sphere of influence.

An illusion of happiness, that vision of sanitary perfection to make us happy or perhaps to simply bring her and us closer to God, to heaven or somewhere about that proximity, was entrusted to her by some higher authority called a boss, given to her in her milky white hands that never stopped working, that never stopped to understand or question the master plan to make life better.

In that instance, in that second I was absolutely proven wrong in my assessment of the situation. She quickly turned a corner, dropped the broom and began taking orders, giving orders to employees and serving me my meal in the blinking of an eye from behind the counter. She in fact was and is the boss. She delivered my burger and fries directly to me with her gentle touch and smile saying, “Enjoy!” I was speechless. I dropped my jaw. People around me dropped their jaws. If I had more than one jaw, they all would have dropped in utter amazement....but who is counting.

She had touched my soul and I would never be the same. The burger looked delicious. I'll bet she is delicious too.

It seemed like light years later, after being frozen in time, mesmerized by her beauty, that I got around to saying, “Thank you!” I walked backwards through space and time with my precious gift in hand, still hot and juicy, as I had forgotten how to walk forward to the present moment and beyond. I backed into a chair and table. They forced me to sit down and enjoy my meal. I always follow directions so therefore I would enjoy that burger with great intention, with tenacity and with God as my witness. I would make the perfect slave for my food server, Burger girl. There is nothing I wouldn't do for her. She is my one and only Burger girl.... Soon, very soon, she will know. I will enjoy this meal and feel the moment.

Truth is what holds reality together. Half way through my burger and fries I surmised it was time to come to grips with reality. It turns out that Burger girl is in charge. How does one approach someone of such great stature, opulent power, majesty, authority, and imposing charm? Such matters must be handled delicately but we must not over think the situation. That would be fatal.

It was right about then that I realized that my shirt was on inside out and backwards and I was only wearing one shoe. What happened to the other one? If I remember correctly it was the left one but thank God I had two socks on. It would be a catastrophe if I was seen walking around with naked feet. I had remembered to wear matching olive green socks and they seemed to be clean so I was only half embarrased.

By coincidence, it just so happens that Burger girl was sporting an olive green shirt which enhanced her already spectacular appearance and voluptuous body. Should I bring up the matter of our matching colored apparel with her in conversation? Perhaps that would be short sighted because it would draw attention to my missing shoe. We would hate for her to get the wrong idea. Being simple, being truthful, is the only way to go. Avoiding shoes all together is the best way to go.

I would simply strike up some small talk about the eatery. I want her to be at ease and feel comfortable with me. I'm sure she is confident and fully conversant on the subject of food court pleasures, wonders and intricacies in her realm of expertise. I'm sure she has intriguing stories to tell. Maybe I should find a shoe store first. I don't want to give the impression that I am lopsided or crooked. Wearing one shoe does that to you. Two shoes will give me the appearance of being perfectly balanced and secure.

After completing the burger, washing it down with a bubbly soda, consuming my last French fry, smothered, literally dripping, drowning in the remnants of sticky ketchup, I looked up. Burger girl was gone! How was that possible?! I was focused on her like a laser beam on Jesus on his way to heaven. This is no time for a horror show. I ran to the counter panting, stumbling up and down myself in a storm, in a fit of rage, ranting and inquired of the cashier, “Where is the woman in the green shirt?” “What is her name?” “I want to be with her!” “She needs to have my babies!” “It is our destiny!” “I want to name my next ten kids after her!” “Bring her to me immediately!” All of this happened so quickly that it was hard, nearly impossible, to keep my twitch intact.

Clearly these people were not capable of understanding the finer nuances of a newly forged relationship between two total strangers. That is their loss.

Am I just another malcontent at the mall? Is this truly unwanted, unwarranted or unmerited behavior on my part? I'm not obstructing justice. I'm just a simple burger eating man looking for his Burger sweetheart girl. Is that so wrong?

The overly over weight woman behind the counter picked up an intercom phone. She made a loud comment into the speaker device; “Security to the food court in section 2.” Before I knew it, I was hand cuffed, beaten, stun gunned or tased into submission and then hauled away like some wild craven animal foaming at the mouth and howling incoherently. I could hear people whispering in the crowd, “Terrorist scum” under their breath. I was never able to say; “Burger girl I love you.” Such is the cost of love and doing burger business at the mall.

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