I’ve passed this woman several times now on my way to and from the bathroom. She’s working at a table in the coffee shop, her laptop open, and a plate with a half-eaten brownie on it. She’s wearing a sky-blue jumpsuit, so I jump to the conclusion she’s a nurse. I’m not sure about her profession, but if she is a nurse, she’s doing a lousy job of taking care of that brownie. Every time I pass, it’s in the same condition, not another bite taken out of it. After my third round-trip, the chunk of that brownie starts to irritate me, like a burr in my sneaker.
I Resist the Urge
I resist the urge to snatch it off her plate as I pass, but it’s not easy. What’s she trying to pull? I’m starting to wonder if she’s got it in for me, flaunting that brownie the way she does. It has to be more than mere coincidence. She’s just not hungry? She’s had enough? Leaving a half-eaten brownie is a slap in my face and an affront to every glutton in the country, yet there it lies. How dare she?
Is she trying to make some kind of point? I can resist eating all of my brownie, and you can’t? Is that what this is all about? Is she trying to get under my skin? What’s she trying to prove? She’s the pinnacle of moderation and I’m not? Why can’t she just pick the chocolate lump up and swallow the darn thing? Why does she taunt me so!?!
Mount Moderation
Maybe I’m not a lofty resident of Mount Moderation, but there’s no need for her to rub my nose in it. After all, I have feelings, along with the ability to polish off a pan of brownies in one sitting. I’m actually very sensitive. She packs up her laptop and makes her way to the door. Not even glancing at me, she walks out leaving that same chunk of brownie on her plate. Only when one of the baristas cleans the table do I breathe easy.
Only one problem: there’s a guy in the corner with half a cupcake lingering. He hasn’t touched it in minutes. Talk about an insult. I sit and seethe. Don’t these people get it? It couldn’t be me, right? Right?
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