Stupid Internal Voices...

I sometimes wonder if there's a way we can judge or "score" our decision making skills.
When it comes to the old classic "what's for dinner", the obvious choice is of course, "pizza!"
But there's this little debate on the inside of our noodles.  One where this one voice says "hey, no dishes is nice, not standing over a hot stove is nice, no oven needed and that's gotta be nice, I mean it's like ninety degrees in the shade tonight..."
And another voice that says "jeeze, pizza is not so friendly to my thighs, the cost is the equivalent to almost five home cooked meals, my kids are gettin' too fat from sittin' on the couch staring at their devices and eating crap food all the time..."

And I don't so much wonder who wins these little internal arguments.  I wonder why they win and how often.
Could we possibs find a way to "measure" our ability to make decisions and if so, could we also find a way to measure our abilities to make what most people would consider "the right decision".
Because the pizza makers of the world want us to order their food.  The delivery drivers want to bring us that food so we can stay on our couches and look at our devices more.  They really want the little extra "tip" too right.

So this weekend, Memorial Day, a holiday, found my wife and son sittin' on the couch, bein' bored, lookin' at their devices.
The sun was shining and we had a full tank of gas, the possibs were endless right.
We discussed "things we could do" and how we needed to be outside more, how we need to get more exercise and this conversation is not a new one.
The beach was brought up followed by the checking of the water temperatures.  
My internal voice says "hey wait a minute, the beach, on a national holiday, on one of the first really hot days of the season..."
And my external voice says "hey, you know it might be busy at the beach.  Like, really busy..."
And my son's voice which is always the most sincere and "innocent" because well, he's still a bit of a child inside, says "oh hey daddy, they have Pronto pups, you could have your first Pronto dog..."

Now, for those of you that don't know, a "Pronto dog" is an especially delicious (so I'm told) corn dog only sold on the beach "strip" of Grand Haven (it's in Michigan).
There's a little "stand" and no place to sit, no bathrooms because hey, corn dog consumption doesn't need bathrooms.
But it's the beach and its a motivator for walking, you burn some calories, you get a Pronto pup, everybody's happy.

So I consent and soon the fam is piled into the ole wagon, headin' west into the brightly shining sun.
After a half hour or so, we're "there" and, it's busy.  Not the kind of busy where you've cut yourself and have to rush to the emergency room only to see not a single empty chair in the waiting room.
No this is the kind of busy where the streets of Manhattan look calm during rush hour.  People "everywhere", sidewalks overflowing, bodies walking so condensed that during a whole intersection light relay, not a single car advanced.
So after sitting in the road pretty much indefinitely, I took the first opening I saw and bolted for a parking space.  It wasn't really a parking space, more like a rapidly filling field of abandoned grass.

We weren't really anywhere "near" the beach or the Pronto Pups but that was okay.  We had accepted that there would be "some" walking so we set out on our mission, ignoring the press of bodies we were soon enveloped in.
I brought my bottle of water, the wife and son had their tea.  Sunglasses on, sunscreen covering, we walked.   And walked.  And...  walked.
When we could finally see the Pronto sign on the horizon, much joy was had.  I mean, my first ever Pronto pup right, this was to be an occasion never to be forgotten and the torturous journey only making it even more memorable.

When the crowd parted, we then saw "the line".  And I don't mean to exaggerate, no one likes to read a story with too much "fiction" huh.
Fifteen minutes later, we reached the end of the line and when I say "the end", I don't mean we got to tell the people in the stand what we wanted.  I mean, we fought through the bodies to discover where others were "lining up" for their hopeful pups.
Then, if you couldn't imagine it already, we waited.  And we waited.  And guess what, we waited some more, occasionally taking a couple of awkward steps forward and trying not to smell the neck of the person in front of you while not allowing the person behind to smell your own.

And I think around this phase, I forgot all concepts of "time".  Life seemed to gellify and ooze around my melting shoes like a child's dropped ice cream cone.
We waited, and we talked about waiting and we tried to keep our eye on the prize.  Or, prizes, you know, Pronto pup prizes.
My son insisted that one hour worth of standing was the equivalent of twenty minutes of walking and I conceded.  Praps he was right.

Then the window!  I could not quite believe it but the blast of air conditioning coming from inside only confirmed it.  We had made it!
I calmly wiped the sweat from my dripping forehead and asked the nice young lady inside for three Pronto pups.  I even added a "please" at the end of my request, you know, you have to try to be friendly to people that are making your food huh.
The lady smiled and asked for my five dollars and change and I handed her my card.
She looked at my card a little funny then said, "um, we're cash only".
I accepted my card feeling a little embarrassed for handing it to her in the first place.  I mean, the sign was clearly posted, right next to the little window.  In big red letters, it read "CASH ONLY" huh.

So I ever so calmly opened my wallet, praying to the small bills gods that I would have enough to cover it...
And nopes.  Two one dollar bills were my only other possessions.
To the wife's purse and, nopes.  She left her purse in the vehicle because she thought it would not be needed.
My head drooped and the people behind us in line grunted their understanding.
My son was quick to pipe up with his optimistic, "but you can get one pup daddy, you have enough to try one..."
But his voice was drowned out by that little voice inside my head from a couple of hours ago.  The one that said "hey, holiday weekend, it might be busy..."

I walked away from the pup stand, no Pronto dog in hand.
My wife and son followed and it was a fairly quiet walk back to our vehicle.
Wait, actually, there was some talk concerning how our water was gone, our tea was consumed and we were thirsty.  But that was about all.

I won't mention how we sat in a couple of highway traffic jams on the way home.  Or how we really had to use a bathroom from all the drinking we had done.
I will mention that whatever skill or talent that is, to be able to make "the right decision" when everyone else around you is encouraging the "other" decision...
I will say that I wish mine were better.  I wish I could just "know" the best decision and make it, even if I chose not to on some occasions.

It's not that I don't want to hear that other voice, the one with the "not so good" decision.
That voice is occasionally right, it was a memorable trip.
I will never forget, the time I almost ate a Pronto pup.