Hi-Lo Diner - The Mac Rib
I often get asked, “How did you get pregnant?”
Well, it’s quite the story. Some plan with their prenatal vitamins and their witchy herbs, and their ovulation charts. To be completely honest, it happened on the first try. I was just as shocked as you are right now. There was some premeditated desire to get knocked up. The first time it crossed my mind, it was after I overheard a conversation regarding the subject.
“They have huge donuts, like as big as your head, and they come with chicken and pulled pork, and they’re like sweet and salty.”
I thought, I want that.
Then I thought, No what am I saying? I NEED that.
I penetrated the conversation with my strong motherly instinct.
“Excuse me,” I said. “What are you talking about?”
“Hi-Lo Diner.” They said.
“Are such things true? Are these donuts you speak of as big as your head?”
“Yeah, I was so full I could barely finish mine,” said the sweet young lass with big brown eyes bigger than her stomach.
Oh, the things you have yet to learn, I thought.
Next came the Instagram obsession. I was nesting, preparing for what would enter my body. Which donut (hi-top as they call it) did I strive for? Did I want the juicy Notorious P.I.G.? A Mexican themed pulled pork delight. The Gary Cooper always photographed well as gravy oozed over the edges of the glazed donut. The Mac Rib was undressing me with it’s eyes in every picture, I blushed even at the thought of it.
There were sweet options, which included copious amounts of whipped cream and sprinkles, but you’re not reaching your full potential if you get those. My mantra is this: Do as much damage to your physical adult body that can no longer eat an entire box of Fruit by the Foot or a large milk shake from McDonalds without four to six hours of gut rot. So in my opinion the most damage can be done when sweet meets salty in the most inorganic way.
After much meditation and planning, I walked through the doors of Hi-Lo Diner. There was a wait, but I was persistent and unafraid. I cleared two hours of my schedule to experience this moment. During my wait, the servers prepared my belly with samples of french toast. Like a prenatal vitamin, it covered the lining of my stomach warm and inviting, prepped for what I may or may not carry.
The host called my name. My table was ready. A patriarchal man interrupted my moment of gratification with his demand to get everything first.
“Hey, we were here before them!’ He said to the host quite affirmatively, because we all know if you say something loud and with confidence, then it must be true.
I laughed, “Are you sure about that?”
Under pressure, the host paused to check the iPad for the reservation order.
While the host was completely calm, I was ready to fight a bitch. I took yoga daily if not multiple times a day at this time in my life, my chattarungas were fierce and my biceps were huge.
So huge they spoke in a Trump voice to make their point, “We’re huuuuuuuge. Like really really great. Just huuuuuuuuuge.”
I could take him and I knew it. I was ready to practice my strength with some clap push-ups, but the host put the whiney man in his place, for I was there first. I packed away my guns, and by that I mean my biceps, because I do not support gun violence in this country. I wiped the sweat off my brow, and made my way to the table.
It came time for my decision. What should I have? Who would I become? After much prayer, a pull from the Tarot, and the burning of some sage, I chose the Mac Rib. What sold me, you ask? Not only was the donut covered in mac and cheese, and then topped with a set of BBQ ribs, it was garnished with a teeny tiny grilled cheese. That grilled cheese made the choice utterly simple.
Bite after bite of the Mac Rib filled my stomach. There was no going back. Was it a mistake? Of course not. Would I regret it? Hell no. I shoveled donut, mac and cheese, and rib combo into my mouth, until I could no longer. An eighth of it waited on my plate to be consumed, but I couldn’t swallow another bite. I thought of the young woman from before and how she couldn’t finish it either. I wasn’t disappointed in myself. I was changed. I couldn’t keep up with my younger habits. I was a mother now.
I walked out of the Hi-Lo Diner a different person. This time my life choices weren’t for me. I had responsibility. I was done living my life for me. Instead, I stepped up to the challenge, to live my life for the Mac Rib.