If you're a pot-smoker, then you can relate to this.
Even if you don't smoke pot you'll still relate.
You're hungry.
No, you're starving.
A sudden onset of the munchies so pronounced, you're willing to eat almost anything. You pour through the fridge searching for anything, but all you can find are some leftovers from weeks ago, whose vintage looks now resemble a science experiment.
You know you'll hate yourself later, but God help you...you've got to eat something. Anything.
In your shark-like eating frenzy, you microwave the orange colored shit, setting the timer for double the time you normally would, reasoning how the extreme heat should kill off any new strains of life-threatening diseases.
You go to sleep afterward, and later awaken to the feeling you've just done something horribly wrong.
If you've ever experienced that feeling. That cathartic moment when you ask yourself; "why did I just do that?"
You'll experience it at least one more time if you eat here.
There's another reason I don't like this place.
The server, upon noticing how my plate resembled a chicken-bone graveyard of sorts, unceremoniously and very swiftly demanded I eat 'moh vegtubul'.
I don't care for places where the server scolds me like my mother used to.
If I want to dredge up those memories, I'll go to a shrink, not Lims.