Friday, July 22, 2005

Let Them Eat Cake - As Long As It's Not Mine

I am so embarrassed.

I don't like to share food. I don't like to share anything really, so it's unfair to categorize me as a pig, stop that. I'm just unbelievably selfish. When I was young and had friends over, I really preferred that they provide their own Barbies and applicable accessories. These are mine. Those are yours. We really don't need to share.

Food, however, is the item that I am most often asked to share, so my lack of sharing skills becomes apparent most often over a meal. Well, they're apparent to me: usually I pretend I'm okay with it and the person who wants to share, the Sharing Suggester, is none the wiser.

My reasons for not liking to share food are simple: I do not know when I order something or prepare a plate how much of it I want. It was the same with the Barbies. I don't know if I will feel like you taking your turn after fifteen minutes of brushing her nylon hair. No sharing.

So last night, I was at a business dinner, and the subject of dessert came up. Everyone always dances around dessert: you can see the eyes twinkling, but no one will order if no one else does first. I hate that, too. I always order dessert if I want it: if you didn't want to sit and watch me each dessert then you shouldn't have agreed to break bread with me. Yes, selfish, but we already established that, didn't we?

I announced that I would be having dessert, and someone suggested getting one or two items and a bunch of forks. I managed to not glare in their direction and simply asked the server to show us the available treats. Everything was going fine, people ordered desserts and the sharing idea seemed to have vanished, when my coworker announced that he would simply share mine, if that was okay.

"If you want some, I guess," I replied, in a bit of a low growl, which was not the politest thing I could have done, but was also not a direct plea to please, get your own damn dessert.

It must have been evident that I didn't want to share, however, because when dessert came he made a little show of just eating two spoonfuls and announcing that he would not continue to double dip (another reason I don't like sharing food. We are not that close, please remove your tableware from my plate, thank you).

Then I had to uncomfortably continue to eat MY dessert while it sat at an odd angle from me, because the server placed it between the two of us. With everyone knowing that I was a non-food sharer.

All this could have been avoided. It was a five dollar dessert being expensed to the company, for crying out loud. Who cares if you finish it? When our mothers talked about the starving children around the world, did she really mean to include having to finish apple cobbler? Could you even give a piece of apple cobbler to a starving child? You just can't go from rice meals to apple cobbler willy nilly, you know.

My husband is the king of sharing food. He doesn't even grab a glass for dinner, he just drinks whatever is in my glass. Then I found out that he gets raging headaches from artificial sweeteners. That's when I insisted we stock up on Diet Pepsis.

He laughs at me. I have never, in our entire history, been able to finish an entire can of soda. That is irrelevant to me: I still want the whole can to myself. I don't want someone else grabbing it and drinking while it's still icy cold, leaving the warm seas of backwash for me to drink when I get thirsty. Now I drink Diet Pepsi for dinner just to ensure he keeps his paws on his side of the table.

I really do have nice aspects of my personality. I'm generally friendly and fairly sunny natured. But I do want all my fries. Thanks.

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