Slow Burn

I've never mastered the slow burn. Seething is another thing that escapes me. When I lose my temper I just explode. My voice rises into eleven year old octaves, I gesticulate wildly, and possibly stamp my feet. No one is impressed.
I wind up gasping for breath. It used to be that older people would take me aside and calm me. Now I'm an older guy and I have to take myself aside. Take tonight. I was at Burger King enjoying a coffee and fries, reading last Sunday's Times, which just lays there all week, meaning I have two days to attack the dozen sections I read regularly. The little kid in the next booth wouldn't sit still, bouncing for no reason and my own seat was shaking enough to throw off my concentration.
I just couldn't bring myself to say anything or turn and glare. This went on for a long time. I almost could sense a slow burn building. Seething would be an overstatement. But I forced myself to think serene thoughts. Baby animals, waves against the shore, palm trees in the breeze. I did this until I had to pee. When I returned the family was gone and I took a deep breath in relief.
Then I realized three of my French fries were missing and I screamed like a banshee.