What a Weird Place: A Love Letter

The first meal that I ever ate in St. Louis was a parking-lot-pimpin' special at a Sonic on Kingshighway. I gleefully pulled up at this Sonic. After years of seeing tantalizing ads on New York television, I finally was in a market where I could do something about it. All that time quietly longing for the decked-out hotdogs, the alluring neon beverages, and the kinds of indulgent, fattening foods that were impressive even by fast-food standards was going to come to a close. Anyone who has eaten at Sonic likely knows that this story ends in disappointment and self-loathing.I nestled my car next to one of those drive-thru order stations, I spoke to a pleasant-enough-sounding woman through the metal grate, I chose a meal saturated with bright colors and cheese sauce, and then I waited in my car. It was August, the humidity was out of control, and the sun made everything seem washed out. I hardly noticed, though, because I had picked up my lease at the dealer that day, and with the a...