Thoughts of a Slow Eating Individual
Everyone around the table bursts into laughter. The joke is funny, but not that funny.
My joke would have been better.
Too bad I can't take the time to say it aloud.
The food on my companions' plates are already three-quarters of the way gone. Mine just looks like I’ve been stirring it around this whole time.
I don't join in the conversation much. A word here or there, that's it. I feel like I've had time to do nothing but shovel food into my mouth since the waiter set the meal in front of us. They are all good at carrying on a conversation without me anyway.
But I hate that I can't figure out their secret to eating quickly.
Bit bite, lots of chewing; small bites, swallowing whole. Doesn't seem to matter, I am always the last one done. No matter what tacit I try, I know I'm going to be sitting here still eating when they finish and then they'll be just looking at me, waiting.
And I know what they'll all be thinking.
Why is she such a slow eater?
I'd like to tell them their guess is as good as mine, but I'll still be eating. So I won't be able to take the time for the remark.