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The line lurched forward one vehicle at a time, halogen halos radiating from headlights. Although it was eleven o’clock at night, I could not help but think of the funeral processions I saw as a boy, cars coursing through town in the daytime with lights aglow.
As I sat in the drive-thru lane at Taco Bell that night in 2008, I began to think of that line of cars as a fast-food funeral procession. But who—or what—were all of us in that line mourning?
Morgan - Spurlock - Film - Super - Size
I had seen Morgan Spurlock’s film, Super Size Me, so I had come to think of all fast food restaurants as merchants of death. In denial, I frequented them anyway. Surely I would not be the one for whom the Taco Bell would toll, I reasoned.
The headlights of the car behind me glared in my rearview mirror, stabbing my retinas. I tilted the mirror, dimming the light, and soon found myself able to make out the backlit, black silhouette of the driver behind me.
Week - Work - Data - Day - Errors
That week at work had been blinding, too. I entered data all day, and although my errors always seemed insubstantial to me, my employer maintained spreadsheets listing them all—a practice that applied to my coworkers, too. By the time the spreadsheet made the rounds that week, reaching everyone in my department, I could see nothing but my blunders.
While I do not believe God keeps a running tally of humanity’s wrongs, if he decided to do so, he could certainly learn a thing or two from my former employer. I regularly double- and triple-checked my work because of this system. That week, as I imagined my coworkers mulling over my mistakes, I struggled to stand upright under the weight of their judgment.
Line - Transmission
I pulled forward in the drive-thru line, only to hear a marble-mouthed transmission from the...
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