I occasionally get teased – or at least questioned – about my love for chain restaurants, but there’s an excellent reason for this.

It’s simply a matter of knowing what I’m ordering before it arrives.

For example, when you go to someplace like the Olive Garden or Red Lobster, not only is the meal you can get very common and basic, but it’s also well-described on the menu, often with a photo.

There’s very little mystery in the process, and no matter what location in the world you go to, you can get that exact same thing. This type of uniformity and order makes me comfortable.

In contrast, the other day I had lunch at this place I’ll leave nameless, and ordered something that I’ll herein rename the “Millie Turkey Wich Macho”. As far as I could tell from the description, it appeared to be a turkey sandwich.

When it arrived, it was sliced turkey on top of a piece of cornbread, with melted cheese and some kind of sauce on top. There was also a weird pasta salad and a regular salad.

As with hummus, I was like, “what do I do with this”. I mean, it was fine in the end, but I don’t like that kind of mystery, and I really just wanted a turkey sandwich.

(The companionship at lunch was the best one could ever hope for, and we came up with a great restaurant idea called Bucket.)

Besides all of this, I’m not a food enthusiast.

So far today, I’ve had a protein shake, a scoop of coconut oil, and an apple. Later, I’ll have that again, and then again, and then I’ll have a protein bar, and then some more of that. I’ll finish the day with more protein shakes, and somewhere in there is a bunch of tuna, and some cucumbers.

If there were a way to condense all of that into one pill I could take in the morning, I’d do it. I’d also take a picture of that pill, and put it inside a cute little menu I’d make with Photoshop.

Let’s go to Outback, eh.