My life as a smushed sweet and sour packet

I'm an old fashioned girl, I like my hot dogs plain and my men cavalier, I like my jeans worn in, orange juice in the morning and can be completely satisfied by the McDonald's dollar menu. You could say I'm a McDonald's enthusiast. I've got a usual for almost any hour of the day. My senior year of college I roomed with four other girls who shared in my enthusiasm. McDonald's brought us together with nightly chats and long car rides. I regularly stock up on sweet and sour sauce packets, just in case I get some bland chicken or run out of spices at home. These packets generally bring me a lot of joy, but on more than one occasion I've forgotten them in my purse and suffered an explosion of sorts. One of these said explosions occurred a couple weeks ago at the airport. It was my last day in Lynchburg, I left the house I'd lived in all year along with my wonderful roommates. While checking my luggage I was blubbering like a little girl, explaining to ALL of the airport attendees that I'd be leaving forever, also trying to prove that the girl I'd been hugging for 20minutes was one of my best friends, not my lesbian lover. Still crying I make my way through the security line. My bags had barely made it through the machine as it started to beep. The kind gentleman asked if he might look through my purse. I nodded as he cautiously opened my 2007 navy blue Guess tote. He put his hand in this mysterious blue bag and immediately jerked it out. The gentleman looked at me in horror, his hand covered in a light brown paste. I, still crying, try to pull myself together, apologize for the strong smell of sweet and sour sauce and the sticky mess that he was now covered in and grab for some paper towels. The gentleman gives me a sad sort of look, pats my arm and says, "I'll clean it up honey". As a slight side note I'd like to inquire as to why all of the attendees in my life refer to me as Honey, Sweetie or Missie. My Alltell guy, maintenance men, the guy that takes my money at McDonald's and even the postman. Anyways, the security guy not only had a few sweet and sour packets explode on him but was now cleaning up the residue that had deflowered my purse. He even washed off my dr. pepper lip chap! He finished up and sent me down to my gate, liquids and all. I sat down, got myself something to drink and took out my leftover baguette from panera. I'd enclosed some butter packets (whats bread without butter?) in a little bag. As I opened said bag, I fixed myself a lovely little snack. As I went for a bite, the now melted butter slopped right onto my dress. Now smelling strongly of sweet and sour sauce, still sticky and now greasy from the butter, I boarded the plane, met the really cute guy sitting next to me and talked for the next five hours. Poor guy!