Staring at two options with friends

We were all just sitting there, the silence getting a little too loud. The menus were closed, but the real debate hadn't even started.

The weight of a simple choice

It was just about where to eat, but somehow it felt bigger. Someone would suggest a place, and then someone else would go quiet, and the whole thing would just stall. I remember looking at my friend's face, seeing the same slight tension I felt.We weren't disagreeing. We were all just waiting for someone else to decide, to take the blame if the food was just okay. It was that weird politeness where nobody wants to be the one who picks.

Letting something else decide

I pulled out my phone, not to check reviews, but to find something else entirely. I said, "What if we just put the places in a wheel?" The relief in the room was almost funny. It was like we'd been given permission to stop thinking.We listed the three places we'd been silently cycling between. Thai, the new burger spot, or the reliable pizza place. Typing them in felt like handing over a small burden.

The spin itself

I tapped the screen. We all watched the colored segments blur together, a little moment of pure chance.

After it landed

It landed on pizza. And just like that, the debate was over. The outcome didn't matter as much as the fact that we had one.

The quiet afterwards

We got up to leave, the energy completely different. The awkwardness was gone, replaced by the simple next step of getting our coats. The decision was made, and fairly.It wasn't about the pizza. It was about the five minutes we got back, the conversation that could finally move on to something else. Sometimes fairness isn't about the perfect choice, it's about removing the need for one.