I eat at my desk almost everyday. I pack my lunch 95% of the month, and I just prefer eating and working rather than huddling in the back room over my lunch. The only problem with this is my food is subject to inspection by my own personal food critic.
One of my co-workers is obsessed with food. She asks me every day what I’m making for dinner, or what I had for dinner the night before. This is fine, but her most annoying habit for me is when she performs her ritualistic food inspection of anything and everything edible that crosses my desk.
“Drinking a La Croix?”
“Soup today?”
“Watchya got there? Thousand Island Dressing on your salad?”
While it might not seem like a big deal, I find it annoying as fuck. I just want to sit and eat my food without her play by play of what’s in my Tupperware. Did you ever read Mad Magazine? Do you remember “Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions?” That’s what her comments remind me of. That “no duh” sort of observation.
Sees hard boiled eggs on my desk. “Hard boiled eggs today?” Thankfully I’m not her only victim. She makes the rounds and inspects everyone’s lunch.
What’s worse is we are both on Weight Watchers, and she is constantly asking how I am doing with my points. “Use all your points yesterday???”
No, I didn’t; I almost never eat all my points, and I derive a sick pleasure in telling her how many I had left over each day, because I know she never has any left over.
The other day she got a little scary though. I had tried this new deli a few blocks away that touts “overstuffed sandwiches.” They are really expensive too…$14.95 for a basic meat sandwich. I had opted to get half a sandwich and matzo ball soup for only $11.
Now remember, I’m on Weight Watchers and diligently count points. So, I tasted the matzo ball, deemed it not worth the points and threw it in the trash. Ditto for the top piece of rye on my half sandwich. I was still left with a nice, open faced turkey sandwich and a bowl of delicious chicken broth.
She got so mad at me! How could I have spent that much money on lunch and thrown half of it away? (If a matzo ball and a half slice of marble rye constitutes half my lunch) Her disappointment was so intense it was disconcerting for me.
I won’t lie. I’m sort of glad when she’s out of the office during lunch. Then I can “pig out” in peace.