Just another night, just another meal.

I'm sitting in the co-driver's seat of an expensive car, looking out into the rain.
On my lap I have the tray of food for me and the driver.
It's nothing fancy but it's seldom nowadays. Especially while at work.

The wrapping tells me it's chicken flavor, but doen't everything tast like chicken? I know it better. Food that cheap is never real meat. It's a mix of soy mushrooms and perhaps a bit of seaweed, with lot of artificial flavors of course.
They grow the stuff underground, without light in tall shelves.
Maximal gain with minimal room and energy. Thats the trick.

My partner has a coffee to go with his burger and fries.
But except for the name it has little in common with what it used to be.

I clutch my cup of tea. Real tea, made of homegrown herbs. It cost me some effort to convince the vendor to sell me just hot water without anything in it but as always it's worth the effort

So we sit, drink and wait for the call which tell us that our employer has spend enough time in the club.
Then I'll get out to fetch him with the umbrella to protect him from the rain. Hoping my presence will be enough to protect him from everything else.

So I wolf down my meal, not caring how it tasts. It's just food, nothing else.
But perhaps next week I'll got fishing and if I'm lucky I'll eat real fish in the evening.