Slow Eating
I am a slow eater. This first came to my attention in high school, when I discovered my beloved friend Corey could divulge 5 slices of pizza before I could even complete one. Things have not gotten better.
On the contrary, they may well have gotten worse. Just last night, whilst dining out with Spider and enjoying a plate of spaghetti, I was approached by our lovely waitress who, upon seeing my plate nearly full 15 minutes after being delivered, paused and said “Are you . . . doing ok with that?” One wonders what an appropriate response to such a question would be. As if eating spaghetti were a calculus homework assignment.
Now, a few of you may be wondering why I’m blabbering about such a thing. Being a slow eater may not seem to be a large issue at first glance, apart from bestowing a bit of inconvenience upon those dining with me (which is wholly made up for by my delightful company). However, such people fail to comprehend the emasculating effects slow eating can have on a fellow.
Yes, for males, eating (like most other things) is a competition, and it’s one that I’m doubtlessly losing at. It has caused me much public ridicule over the years and will unquestionably continue to do so. This is one reason why I have long withheld my eating handicap from you diary readers – I didn’t want you to know the truth. But, alas, I’ve decided it was only fair to reveal to you the sort of slothful mouthfuls I usually take. I know it’s never fair to underestimate your understanding. I shall not do it again.
Still, I don’t know if things have reached their worst. One can only wonder what happens when I get old . . .
I’m a slow eater, too, but it’s usually because I’m too busy talking to stop and eat. It does get weird when everyone else is done, and I’m like one third of the way into my meal. I’m glad we can bond over this issue.
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Sloth–that was a vocab word of mine today. See I learn nothing from school. Nothing. And really, maybe if you ate more and talked less you wouldn’t have such a problem. . .
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I’m a bit of a slow eater, and I tend to not eat very much at one time. I’m more of a muncher. I eat a little, then a while later I eat a little more…
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I’m still compiling a points list of who is more gay with their flatmate – going out for dinner just with him means you are currently winning.
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Admittedly it must be pretty fucking close.
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HA! Sassy noter. That seems a I little too brassy of the waitress — I hope you took a few pennies out of her tip!
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Eating slowly is healthy for you. I wish I ate much slower. In haling food causes much of it to not be digested. Then it piles up in the intestine and gets stuck. It won’t pass out with the rest of the waste and makes you sluggish and causes other health problems. Take your time! You’re doing right. Don’t listen to that “man” stuff about competition. Don’t bow to peer pressure. Take your time!
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I don’t know. I used to eat waaay slowly, and now, I devour anything put in front of me in a matter of 10 minutes, no matter the size or difficulty. It’s very strange. I suppose it comes from having to be so busy all the time. Maybe you should be busy.
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Im a slow eater too.. I talk waaaaay too much to eat.. haha
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I’m a fast eater. It’s probably healthier to chew your food more thoroughly, but I think I just like food so much, I get really excited and eat really fast. Yup.
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RYN: Albert who? Actually I’m kidding, he can exist. But no, he doesn’t count as a crush because I don’t see him, and it’s silly. Plus, I feel pretty much over it all.
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My flatmate’s slept with more girls than your flatmate. (your turn)
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You know perfectly well what “emo” means, ya dork. Update this thing damn it.
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A squee is a happy sort of noise one makes. Like a squeal, except less…squealy.
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ryn: read the song, that pretty much explains it. ^_^
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they say that eating your food slowly is better. Healthier or something like that. But nonetheless, i still make fun of someone who eats too slow. ha.
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I don’t know why I’m even having this competition, I have no chance of winning. hah, John still claims he fucked so many guys when he was younger just to piss off his dad. So he must have been either at least marginally gay or, you know, really antagonistic. I’d believe either. Does Spider have a diary?
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Pity. I still don’t really understand John when it comes to sex, so I just joke about it a lot. Meanwhile, I cling to you in selfdefence as every other male friendship I know doesn’t involve things like getting fucked on speed and voluntarily spending the night in playing with their cat together.
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But you and Spider would, I know it. If you did drugs. If you had a cat.
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