meat me in my dreams

G is the most attentive and considerate boyfriend I’ve ever had (I’m disqualifying M1, who clung to me like a remora and greedily sucked away at my tiny supply of the milk of human kindness until I freaked out and screamed “Stop being so fucking clingy all the time!”), but there are certain things even he will not do for me.

Case in point #1:

We were sitting on his couch when they showed a commercial for Carl’s Jr’s new Breakfast Burger.

Ingredients: a fried egg, bacon, hash brown nuggets, cheese, ketchup, and a charbroiled all-beef patty on a sesame seed bun.

“Look at that thing!” G said in horror.

“I’m looking,” I gurgled, wiping drool off my chin.

He turned to me and said, “That actually looks good to you? That’s like a full day’s worth of food, not to mention about two thousand calories [803, actually].”

“Yeah, it’s a lot of food, but just look at it! Look at all that meat and cheese and…and hash browns,” I moaned orgasmically. “We could always share one.”

G, who considers eating to be strictly a utilitarian thing, not a thing of sheer beauty, stared at me as though I’d suggested we strip off all our clothes and run naked down the freeway singing “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” at the top of our lungs.

Case in point #2, occurring perhaps two hours after CIP#1:

“Is there anything good in the theaters?” G asked.

“I’d like to see Bride & Prejudice.”

“What’s that?”

"It’s a Bollywood---"

“No.”

"---musical---"

“Oh, god, no.”

"---based on Jane Aus---"

“Nope.” I gave him a hurt expression, and he said, “You do realize I’m straight, right?”

Unfortunately, G will be working mandatory overtime this weekend, so I’ve got to find something else to occupy my time. I think I’ll go scarf down one (well, more like half; it really is an obscene amount of food) of those breakfast burgers and then catch a matinee of Bride & Prejudice. I’m thinking I’ll have a whole row to myself, thanks to the rumblings from my meat- and cheese-clogged colon.