The best lunch I have ever had was at Burger King.

I got my first job at a plant nursery. I was 16. It was December. It was Christmas tree season. I was young, able, and eager to saw some trees and strap them down to people's cars. It was the perfect first gig, and I knew it would be a picturesque, Americana-memory I'd never forget.

"You see all those branches," my supervisor said plainly. I looked around the 50 acre lot and saw a few hundred thousand branches scattered across the lot.

"Yeah," I said.

"Take this twine and wrap like ten of them up into bundles. People use them for decoration and shit."

"OK." I said. That was the last time I spoke to my supervisor.

Do you know how slowly 4 hours of wrapping pine debris goes by?

Slowly.

At 11:59 am, now a hardened and ravenous laborer, I hopped in my '91 Chevrolet Cavalier and drove to the fastest calories I could find.

I went inside. I ordered a Whopper with cheese. I "King-sized" my fries and drink. I got an orange soda. I didn't even wash my hands. People say, "I still remember..." but I swear I STILL remember the smell of pine, the taste of sap and salt, and the sweet artificial orange soda. This meal was almost an out-of-body experience. It was as if I was watching myself from above, enjoying the best meal of my life. I never remembered Burger King tasting like this before.

Because it hadn't.

I was tasting work. I was eating something I had earned. I was in a moment of complete self-respect and peace.

At Burger King.

I don't remember the rest of the day. I was later moved inside with the flowers where I belonged. I am not a laborer. I am something else. And, when I see laborers now, I do not pity them or think how good I have it (though I do have it good). I think about the lunch they're going to have. There is no feeling as rewarding and peaceful as an earned meal. And I envy it every time.