WOE: Between Two Slices

Prompt:  Plump tomatoes, salty bacon, crisp lettuce, soft bread, this week we want you to be inspired by the BLT. Write a piece of either fiction or creative non-fiction based on this photo. This is fiction; my gallbladder and I have never been separated, throughout an extended love-hate relationship. 

It had been eight weeks since my gallbladder surgery.  Eight weeks of bland oatmeal, of tasteless broth, of saltine crackers.  And then this morning, the doctor had finally decided that I was ready to return to my regular diet. I practically kissed him on the mouth, I was so overcome! 
I immediately ran to my favorite deli and to order what I had been craving for two torturous months.  They were closed until 10 am.  In my eagerness, I sat right down on the ground in front of the door to wait. 

The sound of the back seam of my pencil skirt separating was an explosion in the silence of the town square.  I quickly scanned the area around me for passerby, my face scarlet, and found the three members of the Historical Society staring in my direction.  I raised my hand and feigned a cheerful wave at them.  When they were gone,  I waited,  visualizing the bright red of the ripe tomatoes, the crispness of the green lettuce.  My clothing issues were forgotten.  The smell of bacon wafted in and out of my daydream. I drooled a bit at the thought.

The deli was finally open!!!  Yay!  Now I can get my hands around that gorgeously mouthwatering sandwich.  

Except...I could not get up.  My legs had fallen asleep in their folded position.  I reached out and grabbed the handle of the deli door and tried to pull myself into a standing position.   I succeeded in sliding myself  close enough to be a doorstop. I screamed.  I let go of the handle and sagged against the door.

I could not get into my favorite deli!  My very own BLT sandwich was in there!  I pressed my face against the coolness of the glass and closed my eyes.  Tears fell off my face and slid down the glass. 

"Excuse me, ma'am?"  "Ma'am?"   Two gentle male voices bring me out of my reverie.  I turn and look up into their smiling faces.

"Aren't you the mayor?"