What's for Dessert?

I just made a really bad decision. Lately I've been a bad boy and have not been bringing my lunch in to work. I've just been super lazy about it. The guilt that I feel over the truly unnecessary expenditure of $7+ a day when I should be bringing in food from home is palpable. I have to suppress it and blend it up with the ball of regret and shame that I keep just in the center of my chest. That's the one skill set that I can trace back to my Catholic upbringing: the ability to see exactly what the problem is and yet ignore the issue and hope that it will somehow solve itself. It's how I self-diagnosed myself as being lactose intolerant for awhile as my gall bladder not-so-silently got closer and closer to killing me. I didn't say it was a good skillset.

Yea, so anyway. There is a cafeteria on the top floor of the building where I work. And although it is cheap, it is not a good cafeteria by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it's pretty shitty. The food is marginal to bad and the people who work there are surly and/or disinterested. Also, they continually fuck up the french fries. This is unforgivable. The goddamn french fries are always slightly under done and too greasy. How do you fuck up fries? When I pick up a fry, it shouldn't sag over sadly onto one side and then start to sweat oil. That's nasty. The good news on this front is that the company that currently runs this cafe has been told to hit the bricks by the company I work for. See ya Sodexo. Go eat a bowl of dicks.

Here's why I can't go upstairs to the cafeteria: Sodexo knows that they have lost this contract and are slated to be out of there by Oct. 15 so they have seriously slacked on stocking things to eat and drink. Plus, I can't help thinking that if they were so apathetic and shoddy when they thought they were in like Flynn then what level of quality can one expect from them now that they know the jig is up? I don't want to find out. So I decided to go grab a couple of slices of pizza with the guy I share this office with (pardon me while I dangle that preposition). On the walk over I announce that "I'm gonna get 3 slices!" to which Seth warned "Don't do it man. I did that yesterday and holy shit did I pay the price. I was useless the rest of the day." I chose to ignore this advice. "Feh, what does he know anyway?," I thought to myself. "Nothin', that's what. Plus, lookit the guy, he's all slight and shit. I'm strong like bull and almost as big. This'll be fine." Can you see where this is headed? Of course you can. We all can. All except "in-the-past" Mark. He's forgotten that he is a 40-year-old man who has no exercise regimen to speak of (unless you count getting in and out of a Jetta). Let's see what happens!

I sat down at the tiny table with my 3 glorious slices of pizza and started in. This place makes really good pizza so the first 2 pieces went down easy. By the time I had finished my second piece, Seth was done with his sub. He said "Are you sure you want to eat that one too?", which I of course took as a challenge to my manhood. "Hell yea, I'm gonna eat that one." I said confidently. "No problem." But by this time I was already full and in need of a nap when I took the first bite of that last slice. I have watched quite a few episodes of that show Man Vs. Food and I always put myself in his place when he takes on those crazy-ass food challenges. The conclusion is always the same: No fucking way would I eat all that shit he has in front of him. Not even if I could be sitting directly on a toilet at the time. It just won't happen. I charged through 3/4 of it and then I hit the wall.

I put down the rest of the slice and sat there regretting being dumb. Seth looked at my plate and said, "What, you're not going to eat the crust?" I said that no, I can't. He replied that if I don't eat the entire piece, then I lose. Lose what you ask? If you have to ask then you are not a competitive douche like me. I knew that I cannot lose no matter what. I must win the non-existent prize. This challenge will not go unmet. I stared at the crust of the pizza slice and lemme tell you it looked huge. I sighed, gathered myself and jammed that mofo into my mouth in two bites (my parents would be so proud. Oh wait, I think I have the wrong word there...whatsitcalled? Mortified? Too harsh. Disappointed? Yes! That's the one).

We then immediately walked back to the office and I'll tell ya, that was the worst thing I could have done. I should have just sat there at the table for another 10 minutes or so and let what I just did to myself settle down. By the time we got back to the office I was a wreck. The pizza was just sitting in my gut like a bowling ball. Thank Christ I didn't have any meetings or anything like that to go to because for the next hour I was barely able to function (my boss doesn't read this does he?). I just had to do stuff with folks on the phone so they couldn't see how I was all greasy with pizza sweats. Sorry ladies, I'm spoken for. Ah the Wiff is a lucky lady.

It's been over 4 hours since I ingested that meal and I am just now starting to feel relatively normal again. Lunch shouldn't do that to a person. I hope this new contractor/catering company is better. I will be making more of an effort to bring in lunch but I also know that I'm inherently lazy and will slip from time to time. As long as the new people know how to make a decent batch of french fries I will be happy.