I’ve got a handful of restaurants that I can’t stay away from, even if they’re culinary disasters waiting to happen. Take my beloved burger spot, for example. Their burgers are cooked to perfection, and the hand-cut fries? Simply divine.
But there’s a catch: before I can even leave the restaurant, I find myself in a frantic rush to the restroom like never before. It’s as if their food possesses some magical force that sends my digestive system into overdrive. Each time I experience this, I’m left praying for mercy and swearing that I’ll never subject myself (and my poor stomach) to this again. Yet, deep down, I know I’ll be back. My cravings outweigh the consequences, and even my kids notice, asking, “Mom, do we really have to go to that place that makes you run to the bathroom?”
Just recently, I indulged in a large fry and a bacon cheeseburger. Everything felt fine—until five minutes later, when panic struck. I knew my body was preparing for an urgent situation. I tried to convince myself that my sudden need to relieve myself was simply due to the warm sunshine. Standing there, awkwardly scrolling through my phone, did nothing to alleviate the impending doom.
In a desperate attempt, I “accidentally” dropped my napkin, bending down to relieve the cramps that were wreaking havoc in my stomach. My kids, well aware of what was about to unfold, grabbed my keys and made a beeline for the car. My youngest chimed in, “Mom, just go! I’ll get your soda. Can we still get ice cream?” As I sat in the restroom, praying for solitude and vowing never to return, I couldn’t help but reflect on all the times I had put myself through this torture. Surely, this would be the moment I decided to stick to home cooking, where my simple chocolate Cheerios await.
But that’s unlikely. My favorite bagel shop has a similar effect on me. The first time I experienced this chaos was after having my three kids. I had to bring them into the restroom while wearing a jumpsuit—talk about a nightmare! Can you imagine trying to explain to your little ones why you’re in such a vulnerable position while they touch everything and announce to the world, “We saw Mom poop!”
Even my go-to sub shop isn’t off the hook; I’m baffled how a veggie sub can trigger such a massive response in my system. One minute I’m ordering a foot-long, the next I’m racing against time as my body reacts in a way that’s hard to describe.
And let’s not forget about my favorite sesame chicken from the buffet! It tears through my insides, leaving me with just fleeting moments of joy before I’m left with a hefty bill and a yearning for more. Then there are the tacos from the nearby spot, which often leave me feeling scorched.
But those brief moments of discomfort are not enough to deter me from indulging in delicious food. Right now, I could easily devour a burrito, then a taco, and wash it down with some egg rolls and fried rice. A trip to the bathroom after that would leave me ready for some soft serve ice cream, which is the ultimate culprit. I can’t resist a good blizzard, even though I know my digestive system will soon feel like it’s gone through a storm.
In the end, I’ll keep enjoying my favorite foods, regardless of the consequences. It seems my penchant for indulging in greasy delights is here to stay. Anyone else feeling hungry?
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