Feed Me

A haiku, by Leah, if you ignore the basic syllable structure that defines haikus.

Food is love
Food is life
Food is not meant to be shared

I take food very seriously. My grocery shopping is methodical and intentional. My restaurant orders are calculated and premeditated. Delivery is not a chance opportunity, but rather, a willful choice. My food is not to be fucked with unless you have a certain death wish. I can have a fork in your aorta faster than that mozzarella stick makes it to your lips.

As we have clearly established, I basically hate 100% of everything. I really, very much, sincerely loathe when any one attempts, or even suggests, that my food become their food. You had your chance and you chose poorly, now you must live with your decision. I will not fall victim to your questionable judgement, this is a fate you must accept and a journey you take alone...from across the table...with the waiter to bear witness.

My vehement reservations regarding food sharing isn't just me reverting to primal instincts, it is the result of cause and effect, trial and error, learning from my mistakes.

I can vividly recall a handful of occasions where I have offered a portion of my food to a second party. Unfortunately, that other party did not have the same respect for the food that I did and so carelessly wasted whatever morsels were left. For example, imagine someone asks to try a slice of your pizza. It is delightful pizza that is perfect in every way: crisp crust, salty cheese, acidic sauce, evenly distributed toppings. Everything about it is perfect. It is the Jesus of pizzas. Your friend excitedly takes a bite but reels back in disgust at your choice of black olives and mushrooms. They forcefully swallow the bite and proceed to drop the remaining slice on the plate like some sort of disgusting peasant in the pizza feudal system. Their blatant revulsion to your pizza taints the rest of the slice and you, the champion of its triangular perfection, are unable to take back that which was once freely given. It is like the first time you can detect in your parents' eyes how much they actually hate your finger paintings. Your heart, and stomach, slowly shatter. Sure, it may be dramatic, but you all know exactly what I am talking about.

There are also the times that you encounter The Taker. The Taker does just that, takes. She doesn't ask, suggest, propose. She grabs, generally nonchalantly, from your unexacting plate. Sometimes it is just a single fry, other times it is a bite of cheesecake. Either way, it is unforgivable and barbaric. Sometimes the individual will even have the audacity to continue to look you in the eyes and consume the kidnapped nutrients. It takes every ounce of self-control for me to not reach across the table and slam their head into the table with relentless vigor and enthusiasm.

Finally, there are The Sneaks. The Sneaks find their natural habitat in your home. Their behavior is simply impossible within the confines of a restaurant or other dining establishment. Your delightful personality has put these individuals so at ease that they feel entitled to whatever you may have in your refrigerator, cupboards, or pantry. I once observed an individual drink an entire half gallon of orange juice while hanging out in my residence. How is that deemed as acceptable behavior? Food costs money and fuck off if you think my grocery shopping is done with you in mind. The Sneaks also have the habit of breaking in to otherwise untouched or unopened food. That hunk of smoked gouda from Trader Joes that I treated myself to after a particularly miserable week at work? Go ahead, asshole, break off an ounce before I have even had the chance to pretend I was going to eat it with fancy wine and crackers instead of Wheat Thins and iced tea. Personally, The Sneaks are the worst type of people. They are the most clueless, reckless, and crude of the whole bunch. I hope they all get salmonella and violent diarrhea at the same time and can't think fast enough about which end gets the toilet and which gets the trash can.

If you steal food, you are a bad person.