Dinner

I got a call on Thursday morning. They didn't get a close-up shot of the burned breakfast the day before. Can you please burn the breakfast again, we'll shoot the pickup on Saturday.

I didn't flinch. I've been asked stranger things. Working in television, this was a very normal request.

Saturday came. We burned the breakfast. We joked around, because nobody really wanted to be at work on a Saturday. Christian got his finger stuck in a door. Jared laughed and offered him a band-aid.

While packing up Christian asked whether he can put the burned breakfast in plastic bags for me to give away.

I stopped at the traffic light. The guy came. Like he did last night. And the night before. I smiled, gave him the breakfast and a banana. He didn't say anything. He ran across the street, waived his buddy closer and sat down on the sidewalk to eat.

I hung my head in shame. I get irritated when I don't have blue milkshakes or peanut butter in my house.

I'm complaining that I picked up weight and the guy on the corner's dinner depends on us burning a meal at work.