The Right Burger

I wanted a veggie burger. I had hoped this little shack could do them the way Frankie's does. I so wanted that--wanted that so badly that I had wished they were Frankie's and not Denmo's. I felt so unfaithful. Why was I here if I knew it was so good there?  How will I feel, I wondered, if the veggie burgers are as good here as they are there?

I was not enjoying myself.

But things became simple fast. "We don't do veggie burgers," the girl behind the glass said.

No way. "No veggie burgers?"

She heard or saw my disappointment. (Perhaps she felt it through the glass.  Who knows?)  "We can take the meat out," she said.

Take. The meat. Out.

In my mind, I saw this gaping space between the lettuce and tomato and mayonnaise and cheese stuck to the bread.

More emptiness.

"You mean a cheese sandwich," I said. I did not ask.

The girl behind the glass laughed a little. "Well, yes. I guess so. It's a meatless burger."

I wanted a veggie burger.

Still, I was faithful to Frankie's.