The Wrap

Photo on 2010-07-07 at 22.51

Am at a La Quinta just outside of New Orleans. Drove 2 1/2 hours to get here arrived starving. Walked down the street to a place called Saints Diner, a 24-hour joint. Ordered the California wrap.

Am exhausted. Beyond exhausted. Which is my excuse why, while watching the woman behind the counter make my wrap, I said nothing … as she did so with bare hands. She wrapped it, squished it, cut it—all with her exposed palms and fingers. For all I know, she just finished wiping her ass. Or vomiting into her palms. Or playing with the stray alley cats who gather at the diner’s roach-infested dumpster.

I have no idea why I stayed quiet, because it’s completely out of character for something this gross.

So now I’m sitting here, starving, debating to myself: “Eat it? Don’t eat it? Eat it? Don’t eat it?”

What would you do?