Paul and I were at Five Guys, eating the free peanuts while waiting for our burgers to come up.

The place was pretty empty which you’d think would make things quicker, but with only two people working, the folks ahead of us were still waiting for their food by the time we got to our second scoop of nuts.

“I think that’s yours,” Paul elbowed me.  The lone lettuce wrapped burger was a stark contrast to its bun-domed neighbors.

It’s important to note here that I never get takeout or delivery for burgers because travel time is not a friend to the lettuce wrap. The lettuce gets wilted and soggy, making it messy to eat and impossible to put down between bites.

They wrapped my burger in foil, left it on the counter, bagged another order and called number 18. We were 22.

Paul knows I hate a drippy, soggy, burger and I could feel his impatience building on my behalf. “I don’t mind it,” I said.

He rolled his eyes.

It’s true that I have a habit of making the best of things when I could just as easily ask for what I want.

I thought about it for a minute and played out the possibilities. I could ask for mine now, I could wait for us to be called and then ask that they add fresh lettuce to my wrap, I could have even complained about them making mine so early, before Paul’s was even started.

It was a sunny day.

I was eating peanuts and drinking the rarest of treats, a diet Dr. Pepper.

I was away from my office having lunch with my buddy.

“I think I’ll just be happy anyway,” I finally told Paul. Laughing at me, he shrugged and let it go.

This week I turned 57 years old.

I’ve learned that sometimes life is better when I speak up and ask for, or even demand what I want, but after almost six decades on this planet, I’ve also learned that life’s not too bad when you’re happy anyway.