The fluorescent draw of drive-thru’s may lead us to believe that we are accomplishing more, but moments saved eluding the second hand can be precariously empty. Often our challenge with the clock is not how to gain more time, but how to learn to spend what we have wisely. Pushing the envelope of deadline upon deadline, it seems that many Americans bow to the clock’s altar. I, too, have been conditioned for speed, but recently, as I rushed to win my daily round of “Beat the Clock,” I fell weak to the temptation of leisure. At first I felt guilty, but a little taste of freedom led to a timely revelation.

At a quarter past five most mornings, I find myself alone on the highway. With little room to spare and no one around to justify myself to, I often forego my own sensibilities and head for one of those time-saving drive-ins. But last Tuesday, though I was headed for McDonald’s, I abandoned the watch of reason and sat down to place my order at my favorite caf.

“Been a while,” said a set of eyebrows. With a flick of the wrist, my hostess of a decade slapped the daily news on the table and put her back to me.

“Well now,” I thought, my face hot with blush, “could this be why I strayed? No one treats me like this at the other place.” At McDonald’s, I just whip my car around to the window of one of over 27,000 restaurants world-wide and a faceless arm trades me a bag of goodies for money. I’m not ashamed; getting what I want two-thirds of the time is darned convenient.

In fact, not one member of Ronald’s pin-striped team cares if I skip breakfast. With stores in 119 countries on six continents, they understand raw productivity. They say I deserve it. Besides, with a drive-thru on almost every corner, fast-food is available whenever and wherever I want it

There, no eyes ever meet. Rarely do I feel compelled to confess my madcap indiscretions to a crackle in the microphone. Beneath the glow of golden arches, I simply slink away into a world of 43 million customers served.

But alas, musing about my hiatus into autonomy was interrupted. One distinctive clank of porcelain striking table dropped my mouth open. With all of the composure of Pavlov’s dog, I salivated as my eyes lay witness to what had arrived.

Scrambled eggs, firm not runny, two delectable slices of tender pork, and a half order of crispy on the outside, tender on the inside, hashed-browned spuds from above.

Without saying grace, I took in a fork full of delicious. Hot, steaming, robust eggs complimented the sharp taste of a utensil slipping between my lips. The first bite passed my mouth and without haste I felt the first zing of salt and silk touch my tummy. Reload, repeat. I think may have moaned a little as I savored each delectable morsel, right down to the…

“Hey, what’s with the toast?” I demanded, our parallax threatening to end my euphoria.

“Fast fixing your hunger,” she said. “It makes you fat.”

It was when I found myself negotiating both human and food that I realized I had found something worth sharing. Stepping inside this little greasy spoon is no nemesis to time; it’s quite the opposite. McDonald’s and its fast-food counterparts may shave seconds off my commute into daily life, but for moments like this one, time and the world that revolves around it actually come to a halt.

You see, no matter where the journey of life has led me, a fireball named Maria has been here to start my day with a cup of bottomless caffeine and a dose of quick wit. In the midst of my chaos, she blends stargazing with reality in an attempt to satiate a free radical like me.

These one-of-a-kind insights are both valuable and free. Truth is you just can’t match this kind of experience at the other place.