Do you know how a good baked potato, in all its humble deliciousness, can make you weep and beg for more? That is not the kind of baked potato I had while waiting for the French film, Situation amoureuse : C’est compliqué, to begin at the theater last Friday, with my friend, Mon.
What I had was probably the most depressing baked potato in the history of all baked potatoes, and definitely the most depressing piece of food I have ever put in my mouth. Instead of buttery, creamy, and salty goodness, it felt like eating the shavings of a pencil eraser that some evil person mixed with chalk dust, or like eating the sole of your shoe, that someone forgot outside the door, for two days.
Oh man, I am so angry. It is baked potato, and cheese, and bacon. How. The. Fuck. Do. You. Mess. That. Up? Jeez. I mean, REALLY?!
Finally, to make it worst, I was eating that lump of unhappiness next to this lady munching on a doughnut. For fuck’s sake…
Now I know what disappointment tastes like.