Retox Test

It’s been over a month since I began the initial detox trial which has since become a new foodstyle for me. I planned to test the effects of fast/processed foods and sodas today, then give them up for good on Sunday. Last night’s dinner plans got derailed when I tossed out my leftovers on Thursday, so I began the descent into gastronomic Hades a meal early. I stopped by Checkers and got the bacon cheeseburger combo. They actually got the order right and didn’t overcharge me, which is rare for that particular chain. Upon getting home, I ate one French fry, took one sip of Coca Cola, and tossed them both. The fries were greasy and the soda tasted sweet with almost no discernable taste. I think watery malted battery acid is the most fitting description.

Anyway, on with the trial. I’ll post the blow by blow details below.

8:30 AM: I’m trying the first Mountain Dew of the day, which may be the last Mountain Dew of the day. It tastes strange, almost like over-sweetened fruit juice. I poured the can over ice to water it down which helped a little. Those were a difficult ten ounces; I had to toss the last two.

9:00 AM: It’s time for breakfast, that most wholesome staple of the healthy man’s diet. Time to go to Hardees.

9:30 AM: Having spent twenty minutes in line at a “fast food” outlet, I have procured a steak biscuit combo. I also discovered I forgot how to do fast food. Rule #1: do not overload the cashier with complex instructions. We had the following conversation:
Me: “I’ll have the #6 combo to go.”
Her: “Do you want the combo or just the sandwich?”
Me: “The combo.”
Her: “Here or to go?”
Note to self – only give them one instruction at a time. Fast food workers are binary.
Further note to self – starting tomorrow, there will be no need to remember the previous note to self.
The food is edible, although somehow simultaneously greasy and dry. I managed to eat about half of it, although I had to provide my own beverage. You have to get your own coffee there, as in go to the grocery, buy some, and brew it yourself. I told them the carafe was empty, but I didn’t want to wait for a refund or for them to fill it.
Side note – the two women working the counter and drive through were a pair of Latino honeys, very pretty but incredibly rude. I’m always hearing how Americans have no manners; I look for it, but don’t see it around here. Most of the immigrants I meet, whether European or Arabic or Yankee, are the rudest people I have to deal with. (Exception – I have yet to meet an impolite Asian.) So, if you’re migrating to the Southern portion of the United States, remember your manners. Or I’ll shoot you. I may be psychotic, but damnit I’m polite about it. “Pardon me, sir, but BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!” (three warning shots to the face)
Not looking forward to lunch.

11:00 AM: Stomach is starting to rumble. I may have to pass on the gym today.

12:30 PM: Add a slight headache to the mix. Is this the end of Zorzan?

1:30 PM: Lunch from an old favorite, McDonalds: chicken McNuggets, fries and a Dr. Pepper. I’m able to stomach the soda more easily this time and the food, while still disgusting, is becoming more palatable. The second window didn’t coordinate well with the first, so they had to ask me what I ordered. I felt tempted to say “The next one in line” but didn’t want to risk it.

2:45 PM: I’m getting the McCramps and McBloating. My esteem is dropping and I’m having a crisis of self-image. Apparently fast food makes us all women. The secret ingredient is estrogen.

4:12 PM: Our daily thunderstorm is here. The power is out again. It’s nice having a battery backup on this computer.

4:35 PM: Power is back on.

6:20 PM: Power is out again.

6:35 PM: Power is back again. Time for dinner, assuming the restaurants have power and the traffic signals are working. I have a coupon for Arby’s.

7:30 PM: I made it back alive. Ha ha ha…I kiss the sweet carpet. I will never ever ever leave my apartment again, unless the food runs out. Dinner was one last Mountain Dew and a roast beef sandwich. The MD is better this time (served over more ice), but still not good. The rb actually tastes decent with that horseradish sauce. Either I’m adapting to the poisons at an alarming rate, or their food was a little better. I did note that the Arby’s I chose was cleaner, faster, and had better service than the other places I patronized today. The cashier was a friendly and polite Latino guy who offered to let me keep my coupon to use again. I’m sure he meant well.

So, the one day experiment is (thankfully) over. I feel a little sweaty with a mild headache, but otherwise not as horrible as I feared. Fast food is an acquired taste, but why would I want to adapt my body to eating unhealthy junk that costs more and tastes worse than real food and leaves me diminished? I look forward to redetoxing tomorrow. Every fast food meal I ate made me long for the spinach salad and creamy garlic dressing I have in my refrigerator.