Rhyva van Onselen

Your coming off a hard and busy day at work. You’re starving, you need some lunch. You waddle your way to the food court and you’re presented with plentiful options. Maccas? Nah had that one too many times. The Japanese place looks good but can’t be bothered using the chopsticks. What’s that? A large meat on chips for $12? Absolute bargain. You order your food and you watch as the wonderful lady cooks your chicken and chips right in front of you. You can smell it, that gorgeous aroma slowly make its way into your post Covid messed up nose. The food is presented to you with a huge smile and a lovely “thank you”. You stumble your way back to the smoko room, holding back the urge to munch down your on the walk. You sit down and open that environmentally friendly cardboard box. It glimmers, like finding buried treasure. You stare at it for a good sec and then dig in. Freshly fried chips and juicy chicken goes down your throat. It’s beautiful. You scoff down the rest of it and you’re in bliss. Your full and ready for another 5 hours of whining customers and minimum wage work.

Thank you Mediterranean taste, Thank you.