Get yer own!

Sometimes I feel a bit like Macaulay Culkin in Home Alone, when he opens up his pizza box and peacefully declares:

A lovely cheese pizza, just for me.

True that, Kevin McCallister, true that.  It's just, this past Friday something rather petty happened that I can't seem to let go of.  In an uncharacteristic turn, I'd skipped breakfast and by the time lunch rolled around I was famished.  I ordered grilled chicken from Ranch 1 with french fries and honey mustard. 

As you might imagine, when I opened that warm, deliciously scented bag I immediately wanted to devour those fries.  Indeed, their heavenly aroma wafted throughout the office, dangerously announcing to all and sundry that I was about to commence eating.  Unfortunately for me, it just so happened that others also wanted to eat my lunch as well.  One person in particular.

This man I speak of bothers us religiously come lunch time, loudly inquiring: "What's for lunch?  Hey, nobody ordered anything for me?  What a bunch of one ways!"  And every day we say, "Would you like us to order something for you?  It's really no trouble."  And he says, "No, no, no.  I eat too much as it is.  I'll go out for a walk and get something later, it's good for me to walk." 

If he doesn't want us to order him food, then why torture us with this daily sustenance guilt trip? 

As I bit into my first honey mustard covered fry, it occurred to me that I was hunching protectively over my meal, much like a canine might guard her food bowl.   

Yes, I was acting like a dog.  And as I'd feared, my coworker came a'sniffing:  "So, what's for lunch today?"  He then proceeded to reach across my chest and snatch up my container of fries.  A ballsy move, since I'd intentionally placed my food as far away from him as possible. 

"What's this?"  he asked, even as he shoved fries into his mouth.  "What's this?"  he said again.  The whole thing gave me the creeps. 

"You're eating fried food, huh?  Are you hungover or something?"

Reader, by this point I had no energy for niceties.  Smiling but barely concealing my ire, I told him no, I was not hungover.  My deskmate chimed in: "It's Friday!  She likes potatoes on Fridays."

What the?  Now I wanted to kill them both.

"It came from right across the street."  I offered eagerly, trying to put an end to the conversation.  "She ordered it, too!" I added, nodding my head at the woman sitting two desks over.  Sadly, my desperate attempts at diversion were futile.  He began touching the rest of my food.  "What's in here?" 

I was ravenous and weak.  With as much tolerance as I possibly could muster, I explained what was inside, then added, "Sorry, I'm really hungry today.  I guess I'm acting kind of like a dog."

Why the hell was I apologizing?

Is there anything more unpleasant than someone hovering over you while you're trying to eat your kibble lunch?  Seriously, what is this guy's deal?  Apart from feeling violated by the way he'd reached into my personal space, I was also feeling grossed out for other reasons.  I suppose I've always been particular when it comes to eating...

Back in elementary school a classmate once asked for some of my chips in exchange for a bite of her apple.  In hindsight, Mother Theresa herself couldn't have convinced me to take that bite.  (Apples are far too juicy for sharing.)  I shared my chips, naturally, but declined her lackluster offer.  I don't roll like that. 

When I was even younger, my uncle Jim asked me if I wanted a bite of his Snickers bar and I said no, thank you.  "What kid doesn't like chocolate?"  he asked my aunt, who knowingly explained:  "It's not that she doesn't like chocolate, Jimmy, she doesn't like other people's germs." 

No, I didn't.  And I don't.  Although I have gotten better.  I'll share anything with Hubby, for example.  Most of the time he's the one to be skeeved out by me, in fact. 

I'm not the only one in my family who feels this way.  My cousin Keely agrees that anything with a milky consistency is off limits.  You'll never catch that girl offering you a spoonful of her yogurt.  There are rules to follow, you see.

But I digress.  Later my deskmate (the gentleman who noted my apparent Friday love of potatoes), asked if I'd secretly been annoyed by all the lunch time attention.  "Well, yes, a little!"  I confided, adding, "I would never do that to someone!"

And it's true.  I never bother people while they're eating, or ask what they're eating or where they got it from.  Frankly, I feel it's bad manners to do so.  Also, who am I kidding, I don't really give a good crap.  I let people enjoy their food!  I don't want to socialize and I don't really want to share.  Most importantly, I don't want people sticking their unwashed fingers into my delicious cup of greasy french fries!  If this makes me a female dog, then Arf Arf.

His tone became confidential: "Can I just ask, is it that time of the month?"

What the?  Did he honestly just ask me that?  You wouldn't mind, but this guy just so happens to be the moodiest person I've ever worked with!  I've often suspected he suffers from a perpetual man period!  Fucker.

Breathe.

I went outside.  It was raining and windy and my broken umbrella kept turning inside out, but it was still more pleasant than being interrogated inside. 

I wouldn't describe myself as a selfish person.  I grew up sharing and caring.  At lunch time I always give whatever I don't eat away to anyone who'll take it.  I just donated to City Harvest last week, in fact.  But is it too much to ask that I be left alone to enjoy lunch at my desk?  Also, why doesn't anyone come up and disturb me when I'm eating a salad?  For some reason this fry incident has really hit a nerve. 

What are your thoughts?  Does stuff like this skeeve you out as well?  Would you share a saliva covered apple with a mere acquaintance in exchange for a measly few potato chips?  I ask you.  xoxo

Comments

[Donna]

You know, I'm pretty lenient when it comes to sharing germs, I'd eat a bite from a candy bar someone else had already started to eat, I'd even share a milkshake. But my food--is my food. Other people grabbing my food, that's just plain rude. Maybe I'm mean for not sharing, but some things aren't meant to be shared. I suppose I wouldn't care if someone asked me about my food, if it was just so they could go buy their own, but then leave me alone so I can eat mine. Also, the time of the month comment? Equally rude. I don't care if having my period makes me want to eat a trayful of fried food, and be mean about it, the question isn't anyone's business.

And last, I don't think I've ever had fries with honey mustard, and it sounds really good. Can I have some of yours?

[The Odd Broad]

Donna, thanks for commiserating!! I'm glad someone agrees!!

:)

[Weinerdog]

DEAR GOD WHO RAISED THESE PEOPLE??!!!! WOLFS???!!!
Friday, I splurged and got myself a personal cheese pizza. Well my boss helped himself to 2 slices of it!!!! Then he left a half melted candy bar on my desk because he thought I'd want some!!!!

This is why I will one day be Ms. Havisham and not have to deal w/ ANYONE!!!!

[Sister]

I have had this happen to me too and I was very disturbed by it. A woman at work asked me for a bite of my salad, which I thought was extremely odd. I wasn't close with this person at all. On another occassion, she asked me for a piece of my pita bread that was part of my lunch. I was simply eating lunch both times and was certainly not offering it to anybody. People are weird. You know that.

[Amy]

This reminds me of college.... "I hear the keys!! Quick, pretend you're asleep!!!!"
It never ends.

[The Odd Broad]

I am glad I'm not the only one who feels this way! As sick as it is, I still haven't been fully able to let the french fry incident go.

[Keely]

I'm not much of a food sharer, but, I absolutely will not share dairy products. Or anything that is made with dairy products for that matter. It's disgusting. One of those personal pan pizzas doesn't fill me up even when I eat all 4 tiny slices. What a jerk!

[Keely]

Wait, I'm not done. The whole period thing is wicked inappropriate.

[Weinerdog]

You know I don't even like it when people try to talk to me when I have my lunch at my desk.

I mean just go away! Do I hover over them? I think not!

Clearly I'm eating and trying to somewhat enjoy what I have, so buzz off!