Leftovers Left Behind

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A tragic event occurred this evening right after dinner. As I stood up to leave, my mother-in-law reminded me not to forget my leftover Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo (my mouth is watering as I write it). I laughed and reminded her of the last time we were at Olive Garden and she forgot her leftovers. We laughed through tears because I am poor, I value my leftovers; we both understood that leftovers are no joking matter. I put on my jacket and chatted with a few people before waving to my husband that we really should go. He slowly made his way to my side of the room, and we walked out together.
But Derek needed to use the washroom. So, I waited outside the restaurant and when he came out we walked to the car and planned out the rest of the evening with the in-laws. We would meet at the pool at their hotel and play cards.
So off we went--home to pick up cards and Derek's swim trunks. Just as we got onto the highway I realized that I had committed the eighth deadly sin: I forgot my leftover Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo. Quick! I said, We must turn around and retrieve my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo before they clear the table! How could I have forgotten my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo?! Turn around turn around!
Derek looked at me with horror and dismay and nearly shouted, You forgot your leftovers?! Yes! I said. Steak! I moaned. My leftover Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo! Tears started welling up in the empty spaces in my eyes, where tasty memories of my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo flashed across my mind. Sadly Derek reported that "We took so long getting out of there that I'm sure they've already thrown it away". I stared straight ahead and gripped the seat until my knuckles turned white as I realized with shock that that is probably what waiters and waitresses do when they find left behind leftovers. I could hardly breathe as I imagined my beautiful Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo getting chucked, heartlessly, into the garbage can with all the other scraps of uneaten food. How could I have done such a thing? It was utterly unredeemable. A little piece of me died as I salivated over the taste like no other and then imagined the Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo among the rubbish .
I sighed as I realized that turning around and racing through the restaurant, sniffing out my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo, would probably yield little more than the added blow to my already suffering heart when I found it among the litter of such a bustling restaurant. At this point, I actually considered what it might be like--eating my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo out of the trash. I would lean over and reach my fork past the limp salad and soggy sugar wrappers, and perhaps I would snag some of my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo that hadn’t touched the raw chicken remains there on the left. If I could get just one more bite perhaps I would feel redeemed. The smell of garbage doesn’t even phase me. I bend farther over and soon my head is entirely inside the garbage can; I’ve almost got it! I’m…I’m, slipping on garbage that missed the pail and going in head-first to be re-united with my Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo!…
I realized at this point that my desperation was leading me to unrealistic fantasies and I may have shed an actual tear. But what I certainly did do was earnestly confess my sin and pray forgiveness for this cruel, maniacal desertion of the wonderful Steak Gorgonzola Alfredo.