There’s this hole in the wall burrito place I go to for lunch whenever I do laundry because it’s right next door.
Not only do they never provide enough napkins with my meal, the napkins they provide are the cheapest kind you can buy. The kind that disintegrate upon contact with a single drop of wetness.
They are more of a formality, a symbol for napkins than anything else.
And there is no napkin dispenser.
So every time I eat here, I end up covered in burrito juice and salsa, feeling like a filthy animal.
A well fed, burrito-ful, filthy animal.
Life is good.
Pick your battles.