downsizing

Work drove me to Taco Bell. So downtrodden was I today that I had little recourse other than to endulge in a steak Baja Chalupa combo and a Pepsi.



Over the past few months--maybe half year--I've done my best to phase soda out of my regular routine (unless there's rum in it, and in those cases, it's mostly rum, ice and a splash of coke, and that I can handle). I don't live the healthiest lifestyle, nor do I really want to, so the way my digestive system's been acting lately, I figured if the beer and liquor had to stay (and it did), soday had to go.

For the most part, I don't miss it all that much. Every now and then I crave it, and sometimes I'll buy a bottle, but never too often, and I can never drink all that much at once anymore without feeling all sorts of yucky.

I noticed that the Taco Bell combo came with the largest sized Pepsi they have, so I asked the woman behind the counter if I could get the combo with a small or medium Pepsi instead.

"You want to downsize?" she asked in a completely baffled voice, like I was the first to ever make such a request.

I didn't know how to react, but I realized the error of my ways. I mean, this was Taco Bell, where meal choices are really corporate decisions, which is fine if that's what you're looking for. I mean, I can't really expect personal care from a franchise where the nacho cheese comes shipped in large, sealed, clear plastic baggies--kinda like bulbous cheese pillows (freaked me out the first time I saw it).

"It'll cost the same," she reasoned, though still clearly befuddled.

"I'll take the large," I said. I ended up drinking the whole thing anyway. And now I feel like shit.