By Lorry Myers
Recently, I found myself serving food in a food line. My job was to put the bun on the plate and then, the hamburger on the bun. I took a turn at filling drink cups but failed at lining up the dispenser spout to the rim of the cup so that quickly turned into a sticky situation. I then volunteered to put cookies on a tray but seemed to eat more than I plated. After that, it was either bun and burgers or clean-up duty.
You know what I chose.
Once the bun was on the plate and the burger on top, the next stop was the condiment station. Ketchup or mustard, sweet or dill, relish or chopped onion. One topping, two toppings, mix and match or use them all.
How do you like yours?
People who came to the free food event, had the option of eating in or taking out. There might be a husband or wife at home who could not attend so we packed their lunch to be carried home.
Each time after I placed the burger on the bun I would say, “I’ll let you fix it up”, pointing to the condiment station with my tongs. If the wife came in and picked up lunch for her husband waiting at home, she would immediately walk over and put toppings on her husband’s burger, almost without thinking about it. Wives consistently made their husband’s burgers first and then, I watched as they fixed their own, which ironically, was never like the husband’s. They didn’t once hesitate; these wives knew exactly how their husbands ate their hamburger and they made it that way.
Just the way he liked it.
Then, in wonder I watched husbands in the same situation. The wife was at home and for whatever reason, couldn’t get out so he was taking lunch home. I put the bun on the plate and put the hamburger on top, then, pointed at the line of condiments and said my usual, “I’ll let you fix it up.”
“What do you mean?” asked confused husbands.
“You get to make your wife’s burger the way she likes it?” I would say.
“What do you mean, the way she likes it?”
“Well, what does your wife like on her hamburger? Does she like pickles or mustard? Ketchup or onions?”
A look would come over their faces, one that I was familiar with. That’s when I knew.
For the complete editorial, see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard.