Aug 23, 2010 | Queens, NY
Aug 23, 2010

I was in the food court at the airport and I ordered a sandwich.

The lady put the sandwich in the turbo oven and then she took it out.

She wrapped the sandwich in tinfoil and then she wrapped the tinfoil in paper and then she taped up the paper with a piece of paper tape, and then she put the wrapped up paper parcel in a paper bag.

"That's OK," I said. "I don't need a bag."

"We have to," she said.

"You have to?" I said.

"We have to," she said.

I tilted my head.

"The table might be dirty," she said. "You can use it as a tray."

And then she put the bag on an actual tray.

I took the tray and paid and went to find a seat.

In my seat I opened the bag and I undid the tape and I unwrapped the paper and I peeled back the foil and there was my sandwich, an origami sandwich that took me five minutes to eat.

The food court was full of people eating things that took them five minutes to eat. They were eating sandwiches out of paper bags and pizza off of paper plates and picking at the plastic wrapped around bananas and oranges they bought at the stand.

After the eating there is the walking and there is the putting the tinfoil and paper and all of the wrapping into the garbage and there is the rushing off to your gate. But when you have gone to your gate, there are the bags and the bins and the men with the trucks and the roads and the gates and there are the engines doing the beeping and the backs of the trucks doing the tilting and doing the dumping and the garbage doing the sliding and the garbage hitting the ground and the holes in the ground getting fuller and you can hear the ground groaning.

You can hear the ground groaning and you can hear it saying, "No, please, not more, I just can't take any more, please, won't you stop? Won't you please stop? It is hurting so much and there is no room, please won't you stop? It is getting too much. It was OK for so long but now it is getting too much. Why can't you see? Isn't it clear? I thought it was clear. Why don't you see? If you don't stop I don't know what I will do. I don't know what I will do, but I think I will have to fight back. I mean it, I will have to fight back. I will have to do something because I cannot do what I am doing. I do not know what it will be but it will be something and it will be painful and you will not like it and it will be harder than eating a sandwich held in your hand and exposed to the air. It will be harder than that, much harder than that. I don't mean to be mean but it's all I can do and can't you see I'm hurting? Can't you see I'm full? Can't you see I'm empty? Can't you see it? But you don't see it. You don't see it. Why don't you see it? You just keep going and going and wrapping and taping and bagging and eating and throwing and rushing until it's too late and I hope it's not too late for you I hope it's not too late for me I hope it's not too late."