The One Lonely Onion Ring.

It’s only one. It’s ONE. How bad or ugly or inherently rotten can it be that you don’t want it? Why don’t you want it?! You’ve eaten 44 others…but not this one?

It looks so sad on a big, boring plate all alone. It looks wilted. It looks hopeless, dressed up in breadcrumbs. I don’t want to have to stare at it, while it stares back at me, while I pretend to be listening to your story about ordering the wrong pair of shoes on Zappos, when really I’m creating a story about this onion ring. It’s a he, by the way. And he’s a martyr - did you know that? This always happens to him!

And he wants to reunite in your belly with his friends! And I want to listen to you fully without lastima overtaking me. And this ring is deep, it’s got layers, it’s an onion and all. So will the extra cals kill you? Can you pop it in your greasy, fried-filled mouth just for me, please?

p.s. I ended up eating it.