How I Fantasize Lunch to Be:
I stand in line and wait to be seated at a table we reserved in a top-notch restaurant. The waiter takes my order and I wait to be served, lightly chatting with a group of friends. Our appetizer of mozzarella sticks arrive, and we each savor the brilliant combination of the crunchy, lemony outer shell and the cheesy goey-ness of every bite. I lick my fingers and wipe them on the handkerchief placed on my lap. My entrée comes–baked penne pasta smothered in Alfredo sauce and topped with fresh mozzarella cheese. I finish every last bite and dip my breadsticks in the remaining sauce. After the meal comes dessert. The waiter arrives with a slice of cheesecake and a side of strawberries. Full and content, we pay and leave the restaurant to enjoy the rest of the day.
Lunch in Reality:
Every day the same old sandwich. A bloated ham, cheese, and lettuce mashed between two soggy slices of wheat bread. Some fruit. A couple junky snacks here and there. Everything packed in a brown paper sack. It’s not much of an event.