I could feel my toes sticking together, bound by a wet substance. As my heels made their rhythmic thud against the marble floor I knew the wet feeling encapsulating my toes was blood. I tried to forget about the stabbing pain in my feet as I walked through the Overstreet Mall in uptown Charlote. As I passed man after stunningly handsome man in the hallways, I was determined to grin and bear it.

Down each corridor and up each escalator were swarms of men in perfectly tailored suits. Seemingly escaping their offices for a hearty lunch at one of the many options offered uptown. I merely appreciated ogling them. While the views were nice, the smells were even better.

As I passed restaurant after restaurant I felt as if my nose were exploring different parts of the world. There were Thai places, Mexican, Chinese, American, and salads for the ever so healthy ones. But the one smell that engrossed my nose and failed to leave steamed from Chick-fil-a. I hurried in the growing line to order my No. 1 combo. “I would like the No. 1 on a whole wheat bun, no pickles, with fries and a sweet tea.” The words left my mouth so easily, clearly I had ordered this before.

As I walked back to my office I passed swarms of men chattering about banking news and travel plans. During my 20-minute hike back to the convention center I snuck a fry or two. The warmth heated my mouth and body, almost like a comforting hug. I could taste the salt remnants on my lips, urgin me to devour my sandwich and the rest of the fries.

Once back at my desk, I was able to kick off my shoes, giving my aching feet a well-deserved break. As I sat back in the chair sipping my sweet tea, I got right back to work.