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This morning, I went to the cafe downstairs got myself a large, hot coffee and an egg and cheese on wheat bagel. As soon as I settled in and ate half of my bagel, an email comes through, “Krispy Kreme donuts in the breakroom.” Crap, I’m never going to be skinny. Because, really, who can resist a warm donut to go with their coffee? My co-worker, let’s call him “Big Boy” – he loves that – heads over to the breakroom with me. On the table is an open box of Krispy Kremes:
Now, being the Northerner I am, I prefer Dunkin Donuts. But – hey – if it’s covered in chocolate, I’ll eat it. Not keen on the availabilities in the open box, I spy a closed box laying next to the open one on the table. Figuring no one would buy two boxes of plain donuts, I start prying open the other box to get what is sure to be a selection of flavorful yummies. I finally break open the box to see this:
Ah, that’s more like it.
A nanosecond after the seal of the box is broken, the world goes into slow motion and out of the corner of my eye I see Big Boy’s finger go right for the lone chocolate frosted and I hear, “I wwwaaannnttt ttthhhaaatttt ooonnneee!” as his finger curls around the donut. I may or may not have screamed, “Nnnnnooooooooooooo!!!!” and then called him a rat bastard as he placed it on his plate. Now, I could have been a grown up about this, but I am VERY serious about my food. You don’t mess with my morsels. There is a code, people, a code!
So, while I should have been enjoying a chocolate covered delight, I was instead looking at this (blueberry donut):
while Big Boy stood in my doorway spewing half-assed apologies and scarfing down this:
Rat bastard, indeed.
CODE OF “FOOD” CONDUCT:
1. I do not want to taste your food. Please stop trying to give me a bite because what inevitably happens is I enjoy yours more and the rest of my meal is ruined because food envy leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
2. I do not want to share/split food with you. You will eat faster than me or more than me and I will feel like I have to scarf it down instead of enjoying it in order to keep up. Or, if we split it, you will take the “better” half and my mommy won’t be there to make you give it to me so I stop crying.
3. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, take food off my plate without asking.
4. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT, take the best bite off of my plate when I do allow you to have a try. I will prepare the bite for you and provide it to you.
5. If you come into my house (or, even if you live there) and you eat the last of something, prepare to be thrown out. Especially if it is something that I have been looking forward to eating all day. Do not, by any means, tell me: “It spilled. [pause to flash a big shit-eating grin] Down my throat.”
6. Don’t tell me to just pick off the tomatoes. The idiots got my order wrong and I have a right to be pissed. If I wanted tomato slime on my burger I would have ordered it that way.
7. Don’t order the same thing as me.
8. Don’t tell me something isn’t that spicy because you think I’m being a baby and you want to see my face turn red and my eyeballs pop out of my head from coughing.
9. Don’t dab your pizza with a napkin or even LOOK at a knife and fork in the vicinity of pizza. You fold it. That’s how it’s done.
10. Don’t start eating the fries in the car. You know you’re not going to take that container for yourself when you get to the house and I don’t want a 3/4 order.
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