An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She opens the menu and dies from shock.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She doesn’t open the menu, because she Googled it last week, memorized the caloric values of every item, then tried 17 lowkey strategies to switch up the plan.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s. The healthy menu is called The Guiltless Grill. Its lowest calorie option is still 360 calories. The anorexic wonders whether the schmuck who wrote copy for Chili’s understood a sick girl’s capacity for guilt.
An anorexic cannot walk into Chili’s. Reverse Catholic Church logic. She’s too pure to be granted entry.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s after her date holds the door open for her. She is auditioning for the role of Girlfriend Who Is Normal About Food. The look on his face when she takes a knife and fork to a singular fried pickle chip tells her she will not make callbacks.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She eats a bacon cheeseburger. The bun, buttered and toasted, makes her hands shine with grease. She drags a salty French fry through ketchup. It’s a good day. One where she watches the hordes of other eaters and thinks I want to be part of your world.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She wonders what part of the chicken a crisper comes from.
An anorexic walks into Chili’s. She holds up 1 finger to the hostess, though it feels like a lie. She’s never alone—always the hunger, precious and shameful, dragging so heavy behind her.
Megan Williams is a writer in Pittsburgh. Her debut chapbook, Twentysomething, is forthcoming with Bullshit Lit in 2025. Tweet her @megannn_lynne.
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