HOW'S YOUR APPETITE?

At times I regret so very rarely eating dinner with somebody else, but then I remember that I am not particularly social, and almost everybody else is, more or less, dysfunctional. Most are more rather than less.

In particular, I remember a conversation at a restaurant where I worked part time in the evenings, three times a week.

Like so:

"Oh my gawd they're all meat! No wonder their auras suck. Suck, do you hear me?!? And everything has gluten in it! This is SO unhealthy, dammit, why are we here?!? Are you trying to kill me? It's that blonde bitch at your office, isn't it? She made a pass at you and now you're taking revenge by feeding me inedible sh*t. Don't they have any wheat-free naan breads? Lentils give me gas!"

Then to the waiter: "Is that a slice of lemon in that water? I'm allergic."

This is San Francisco. There are many people like that.


It was an Indian restaurant, and though that couple had a splendid time, all the food was far too spicy for her, and she ended up with awful heartburn, which I only know because she kept up a running update about the state of her digestion from before the first bite till after the last beer.


I believe they were a happy couple. He got regular sex, and worked with a blonde bitch who appreciated him. She got fed stuff that helped her feel special. For some people it just doesn't get any better.


Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to go out to dinner with a woman who likes beef and bacon and fatty pork and oysters and garlic pizza and steamed mussels and stuffed tofu and fish and chow mein and crusty bread and asparagus and black bean spareribs and smoked Ardenner ham and country paté and schnitzel and Bearnaise sauce and bitter melon and mustard greens and lemons and eggs and gluten and hot sauce.

Then I fry up some noodles with veggies and animal protein, plus savoury condimental flavourings, and eat by myself at the computer.


I'm having an after-dinner coffee right now.


Tuesday, one the first day of my weekend, I'll probably go have some fatty pork and bitter vegetables, plus hot sauce, with rice. By myself.
I'll just have to imagine a conversation.

Maybe I'll bring along a stuffed animal.
For company, you understand.




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