I walked past the trees that were on either side of the fountain. There was a cool breeze coming from the ocean. If I walked at the right angle and ignored my peripheries, for a moment I could pretend I wasn't in the city. It was a pleasant city. Not entirely soulless. I was never hungry but the fatigue associated with lack of food was unpleasant. Eating when you are not hungry is awful. The food tastes like cardboard. Plus, I hate eating alone. Sitting down and ordering food by yourself is one of the worst things you can do. I'm not anxious about it or anything. It's just a sad ordeal. The waitress will act pleasant and that's fine I'm not going to accuse her of being fake and get all mad at the world. It's just a pretty boring ordeal. Waiting for the food, eating it, waiting for the cheque. I'm not even impatient.

Instead I would just go pick something up. Preferably something I wouldn't have to sit and eat with utensiles. Of course fast food depresses me for some reason. I'm not going to obsess over love being in every bite, that is unrealistic. But I just find the idea of fast food really saddening. Unless I'm stoned I think. If I'm stoned I'll probably eat the apple pies or something and giggle. But that's an entirely different event than the crisis that I am currently dealing with.

I went to this store that sells pretty decent sandwiches. The line was too long. I decided to wait anyway. This girl walked by with a reasonable ass. I let my eyes linger and follow her, I didn't really care if she noticed. Most girls are flattered anyway when I stare. I think. I don't want to eat. Want a fucking hassle. I have to spend money to eat something that tastes like shit. The line slowly inched up.

It was currently wrapped around the edge of the block with the entrance about 10 feet away. The sidewalk I was on was on a steep hill. This was the last block before you could take stairs down to the port. There were a whole bunch of cute eateries and shops on this block. Actually, forgive me if I have come across as terribly pessimistic so far, it is a nice market and for some reason it always lifts my spirits. The line moved forward and I found myself at the entrance. The server was this adorable blonde girl who couldn't have been taller than 5”2. her cheeks were quite puffy and she had these baby blue eyes. Man, I'd take her out to the fucking zoo or something. Maybe buy her some cotton candy. I kept track of her customer demeanor so I could see if she acted differently around me at all. Maybe she would smile a little wider or giggle or something.  Maybe perk up her tits and push her chest out. Then pull me behind the counter and around the back and take her shirt off. I should choose what I want to eat. It all looks the same. I need something with a good calorie to dollar ratio, reasonably healthy, and with meat. I need the protein. Chicken is a safe bet. So I'll order it. “I'll order the tuscan chicken sandwitch please.”

The store had a nice breeze coming through and the walls were decorated with interesting food memorobelia. The type of stuff you would expect a small locally run eatery to have. As I approached the register holding my food I was sure to pay perfect attention to this sweet girl. I had gauged her reactions so far and was confident I would notice a fluctuation. She rang me up, took my card, smiled, and handed it back. It didn't beat my significance test—oh well, whatever, she's probably just tired.