Strange Desires

Oh, how I wish, what words to follow would entail a pantless young hunk or satin sheets in a sky high hotel (motel?) room. I wish my desire del dia revolved around bondage devices and champaigne foot soaks . Alas, the one expressing desire is me and this one revolves around food. Nothing kinky, nothing "exotic" even. Nothing costing more than $3.00 retail. On my way to the hair salon this morning I was seized by a nearly unquenchable desire for a chicken salad sandwich. I had breakfast before I left the house. I shouldn't be so specifically hungry. I was on Newbury Street, but I couldn't figure out where to get a "good" chicken salad sandwich. While in the chair, the craving subsided for a bit. However, once I got out into the sunshine , it roared back into focus. I had made my lunch , when I got back to the car, I ate it. It was slightly satisfying for while. I drank some water, I had a couple of Mentos. Where could I get a good chicken salad sandwich in Andover ? Nowhere.
Shortly before I left work, my little obsession was twined with an equal desire for a balony and cheese sandwich. Yeah, I said it, "Baloney" and "Cheese". I was doing my weekly grocery shopping after work, maybe I would find some solace at the great DeMoula's. I found teh elusive chicken salad sandwich and the cold cut fixin's. I ate a chicken salad sandwich in the car in the parking lot before heading home. It was completely satisfying. I can't believe my whole day was haunted by the spectre of party food. ( Okay , maybe it's been a while since I've been to a party where baloney & cheese sandwiches were passed around on trays, but you get the drift. Maybe you 've been to a cold cut buffet and you made a baloney & cheese sandwich ? Hmm ? Not even once ? Okay, it's just me then.) When I got home , I made that baloney & cheese sandwich and it , too , was equally satisfying.
This is probably why I have never married ... . .. .