Cheeseburger in Paradise

Have you ever had an alien take over your body and cause you to do, say, and crave things that you knew you would later regret?  If you've ever been pregnant, you may understand what I mean.  I've been feeling poorly for nearly a week, but today it seems that things are getting back on track and my appetite has returned with a vengeance.  I've been having some minor cravings all day, the kind that feel like, "Gee, wouldn't it be nice to have some _______."  Mostly those cravings centered around bread--bread & butter, bread & jam, cheese sandwich, that sort of thing.  Of course, we're out of bread and it's too doggone hot to walk down to the bakery and Ekrem is out and about with the car.  I nibbled on all the usual things--fruit yogurt, cacik, tea, lots of water, and Meg made a spinach salad for me, but none of these things really satisfied.  So rather than fight the cravings, I decided that I would take a nap.  But the cravings decided that they were not to be ignored.  Suddenly, it hit me--a cheeseburger, with extra pickles no less!  This was a Level 4 craving, not one of those puny little bread-centered cravings of earlier.  This was the kind of craving that makes women cry and has husbands up in the middle of the night, heading to the all-night grocery for some Cherry Garcia.  I whined, I cajoled, I tried to explain to the craving (and to the alien inside) that they don't make cheeseburgers in Turkiye the way they do in the US.  A little whisper came back, "They have them at McDonald's."  Ah shoot.  A craving with a memory, just what I need.  There's no McDonald's near here.  In fact, I'm not even sure where the nearest one is. 

Watching the clock tick by, I'm getting hungrier and hungrier, and the craving is getting louder and louder, nearly screaming in my brain "I WANT A CHEESEBURGER WITH EXTRA PICKLES!"  I'm miserable, the craving is miserable, so of course I call Ekrem to find out how miserable he is.  He says that he's on his way home and asks would I like him to pick up anything.  Gingerly, I broach the idea and practically whisper, "McDonald's."  He thought I was kidding and no amount of telling him that I'm serious would get through.  So of course he comes home empty-handed.  Mind you, the craving is still running around in my brain, screaming the same message, and causing me to feel fairly weak.  Ekrem comes through the door, all jaunty-like, asking if I'm ready to go to dinner.  I say, "Please take me to McDonald's.  I'm seriously craving a cheeseburger with extra pickles."  He starts his usual litany of how McDonald's food is crap and so on, as if I don't already know this, and then says that there isn't a McDonald's around here and he's too tired to get back out and blah, blah, blah.  That's when it happened.  I started crying.  I mean literally sobbing--huge wracking sobs with fat tears and I curled up on the couch and boo-hooed.  I said, "You don't understand--I've fed it everything I could think of and it only wants a cheeseburger with extra pickles--from McDonald's!"  I don't know if it was the crying, or the incoherent sobbing about "it," but whatever it was, something got through.  He told me to put my shoes on and get in the car.  At first, I thought he was going to take me to Yilmaz, our favorite restaurant in the village.  But no, he hit the highway and I started perking up, as the craving began asking, "Are we really going?"  And he really took us--not to just any McDonald's, but to what has to be one of the prettiest in the world--the one in Caddebostan by the Bosphorus.  And that's when it occurred to me--I was having my cheeseburger in paradise!  Okay, maybe it wasn't quite the way Jimmy Buffet likes it, and I certainly didn't have a cold draft beer, and they think that "2" is extra pickles, but still.  I was like a heroin junkie who finally got a fix.  Back in the days when I used to smoke, I remember getting a really bad jones for a cigarette, but nothing like this cheeseburger craving!

I like mine with lettuce and tomatoes
Heinz 57 and French fried potatoes
Big Kosher pickle and a cold draft beer
Well good God Almighty, which way do I steer?
--Jimmy Buffet, "Cheeseburger in Paradise"